Rise of the Forsaken
by Korraganitar the NightShadow
Summary: Post OotP. While mourning over Sirius' death, Harry has a rather strange conversation, that sets him on the path to discovering just who and what he is in the world, and what he will become. Dark Harry. Dumbles Bashing. HPHG
1. A conversation with an Ally

**AN: **well this is my first foray into the potterverse, so it will mostly likely have some bugs as I write it that I would greatly appreciate if they were pointed out _Politely! _(Hear that flamers! _**Politely!!!**_) That being said, this is going to be highly AU starting after OotP and using quite a few elements of the Warcraft universe, so most of my real mistakes would be timeline wise. I think that's long enough so, without further words, I give you my first HP fic: Harry Potter and the Rise of the Forsaken!

"talking"

'thinking'

_**SS**_Parceltongue_**SS**_

'_mindspeak'_

* * *

Chapter One: A conversation with an ally

In the town of Little Whinging, in Surrey, there was a neighborhood called Privet Drive, where everything was normal. The houses all looked the same, the gardens all had the same plants, and the inhabitants all lived the same normal, mundane lives. That is, every inhabitant save one.

This inhabitant, a reluctant resident of Number Four, was anything but what you'd call normal, unless what you'd call normal included regularly participating in life or death struggles with a crazed lunatic bent on ending your life and world domination (but then, what crazed madman doesn't dream of world domination?) He attended a school called Hogwarts, having just finished his fifth year a week ago, and played seeker in a sport played on flying broomsticks called quidditch. Of course all of this was quite normal to him. You see, his name was Harry Potter and he was a wizard.

He was fifteen years old, had messy black hair that never changed, emerald green eyes that shined despite being behind a pair of glasses, and a pale countenance. He was short for his age, though he had recently become slightly more muscled. He was currently sitting on a hard, uncomfortable bed in a small room, twirling a wand between his fingers thoughtlessly as he thought back to the end of his last term.

'Its all my fault' He thought to himself dejectedly, staring at the floor. 'If I hadn't fallen for Voldemort's fake vision then Sirius wouldn't be dead, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, and Ginny wouldn't have been hurt, none of this shit would have happened!'

'But its not all your fault.' His mind seemed to answer him. 'If Dumbledore had been open with you about the prophecy and why Voldemort wanted it then you wouldn't have been drawn in, and then there's Snape, who decided to mind-rape you instead of teaching you occlumency which would have kept the visions away. And lets not forget Bellatrix and Voldemort, after all she threw the curse and he gave the orders.'

'But I still fell into his trap' Harry raged back to himself. 'I walked into a dangerous situation totally unprepared, led my friends in behind me, and nearly got them and me killed!'

'And why aren't you prepared?' His mind answered him. 'Dumbledore knew of the prophecy, shouldn't he have trained your at least somewhat? Shouldn't he have tried to make sure you could hold your own to at least some extent? And his excuse about a normal childhood is bullshit. He should know very well that a nice childhood went out the window the day he left you at the Dursley's and that your time at Hogwarts has been nothing but one life or death ordeal after another. Normal childhood, ha!'

'That is a good point.' Harry thought to himself. 'Why didn't Dumbledore prepare me for Voldemort? Unless he wants me to fail and get killed! But that makes no sense!!'

'Doesn't it?' Came the reply. 'After all, if he can engineer your death as well as Voldemort's he will be a hero again, with his reputation spotless. He would have another Dark Lord kill on his record, and if he spun it right could even make it sound like you were turning evil yourself! After all, no one questions Albus bloody Dumbledore!'

Harry considered those viewpoints for a few moments before thinking, 'Those are valid points I suppose, as this past year has shown me how little I really know the man, but there is one thing that is bothering me… when did I suddenly develop MPD and start arguing with myself?'

'You didn't' came the simple reply.

'Then…. who the bloody fuck are you?' said Harry nervously. After all, every other presence that has been pocking around in his head lately has been rather malevolent.

'_I am…. an ally.' _The voice replied to Harry, now obviously not the voice of his subconscious. It was deeper now, yet also softer. _'Someone who doesn't want to see someone with as much potential and as great a lineage as you be used by the crafty old puppet master.'_

'_How are you in my head!' _demanded Harry angrily.

'_Ah, ah, ah, that would be telling.' _The voice replied sounding amused. _'But then if you really knew about yourself and where you came from you would already know the answer to your question. But then, that would imply that you could actually question the motives and information of dear old Dumbles, that you in fact have some free will.'_

'_I do have free will whatever you are!'_ Harry raged at the voice. _'Now tell me what I want to know!!'_

'_If you _really _want to know then you'll have to go to Gringotts and ask after the status of your vaults. That should start you towards some answers. If you decide to seek the truth, then I am sure you will here from me again. Until then, young wizard.' _After the voice said all of this it felt to Harry as if a presence had lifted from his mind and indeed, he realized, one had.

'Now who the hell was that thing' Harry thought to himself, wondering just what he had been talking too or, indeed, if he hadn't just dreamed the whole thing up to begin with. But what the voice had said to him troubled him. Was he really just a puppet in an old man's schemes? Looking back at a lot of his life, Harry realized that the idea really wasn't that far-fetched.

In the very beginning, Dumbledore affected Harry's life by not noticing the death eater that was sitting in the Hog's Head and listened in on the supposed prophecy. Then, he decides to place Harry with the Dursley's, by leaving him on their doorstep with nothing but a note, when he had to have known that they despised Harry's parents and indeed anything to do with magic. And then of course, there's the fact that the first person from the magical world that Harry met was Hagrid, who, while not a bad bloke, was totally and completely devoted to one man; Albus Dumbledore.

And that was all before Hogwarts! As Harry looked back at each year he had spent at Hogwarts, he began to notice certain things that Dumbledore, if he was really as powerful as they say, should have noticed.

In his first year, Not only did he decide to hide the highly sought after Philosopher's Stone in a school full of children, he also somehow failed to notice the manifestation of evil growing out of the back of one of his teacher's head! Then, in second year, He somehow fails to figure out what the monster of Slytherin was, when a second year, albeit a brilliant one, managed to figure it out. Wasn't he supposed to be a genius?

And then came Harry's third year. As he thought about it, that year was where a lot of discrepancies show. For one, how could Dumbledore not have noticed that the Weasley's, his most adamant supporters, had had the same fucking rat for twelve years? On top of that, why didn't he use his political influence to get Sirius a trial! A little Veritaserum and Sirius would have been free and clear and Harry could have lived with him instead of the Dursleys! Of course maybe Dumbledore didn't want that to happen…

Harry didn't even know where to begin with all the things that could have easily been prevented in his fourth year. The two things at the top of the list are of course the Triwizard Tournament and Barty Crouch Jr.'s infiltration. How the hell did Dumbledore not notice the changes in his "close, personal friend" Moody's behavior when he was being impersonated by Crouch. Not only that, but there had to be some influence or pressure that Dumbledore could have exerted to get him out of the tasks and thus, out of the open for old Voldie's minions to come along.

And then finally came Harry's fifth year. This one was full of holes, glaringly obvious ones. First off, Dumbledore avoided Harry the entire year, leaving Harry in the dark. Then he disappears when he would be most useful. Then he gets the strange and all around idiotic idea that such a man as _Snape_ could overcome his hatred of all things Potter and actually teach Harry Occlumency (which, Harry knew from looking at the few books he could find on the subject, he most certainly did not.) And finally, he takes forever to show up at the ministry and decides to drop the bomb of the prophecy on Harry after Sirius passed through the veil. Oh yes, that was _very _nice of him, such a _grandfatherly_ thing to do.

'Come to think of it, the idea that Dumbledore might be using me really doesn't sound all that far-fetched at all.'

And what did that voice mention about his vaults and Gringotts? Harry really couldn't think of what his vaults would have to do with anything but then he had never paid much attention to his finances. Though maybe that was the problem. Thinking about it, he'd never received anything in the way of bank statements or anything else, and he couldn't imagine who else would be getting those for him (with his luck, it was probably Dumbledore.)

Come to think of it. Perhaps it would be a good idea for him to check on his vaults. After all wasn't his father's family an ancient one, and therefore one with money and nice houses. At the very least he could get a bit of control of his life by controlling his finances. And who knows, maybe he could find a safe house and get away from the Dursleys for good! 'Now if that isn't incentive, I don't know what is.' He thought to himself happily.

'Now… how to get to Diagon Alley without being stopped by one of Dumbledore's men?' Harry quickly jumped up off of his bed, invigorated by having something to do besides brood. He crept over to his window, making an effort to be quiet, and try to ascertain a sign of his minder for the night.

As he reached the window, he strained to pick up anything with his senses. Undoubtedly whoever it was under some form of concealment charm at the very least, so looking for the person was not going to work. However- ahhhh yes… there. The smell of cheap beer and cigar smoke… and the sound of light snoring that Harry had to strain his ears to hear. These things could only mean one person.

Mundungus Fletcher, irresponsible drunk and thief extraordinaire. Perfect.

Thanking whatever allowed him to come to a resolution and have an easy to fool guard on the same night. Harry quietly grabbed his invisibility cloak and wand, along with some money, and opened his door. Being as silent as he could, he crept through the house, making less noise than a ghost. All that time creeping around to avoid Dudley when he was younger had paid off, as he made his way downstairs and too the front door without waking anyone up, as it was well past midnight. Opening the door, he crept outside.

Under the cover of his cloak, Harry silently moved away from the house, up the street a ways so that there was no chance that he would wake Fletcher. When he was confident he was out of hearing distance, he took out his wand, bundled up his cloak, and summoned the Night Bus. With a loud bang and screech that made Harry thankful he had thought to move away from the house, it appeared. Getting on the bus, making an effort to keep his face hidden beneath the hood of the hoodie he had pulled on before leaving, he was asked by the driver, Stan, "Where to?"

"Diagon Alley," Harry replied tersely, keeping his voice low. He was worried for a moment that Stan would ask him to reveal his face, and held in a sigh of relief when he merely asked for eight sickles as payment. Reaching into his pocket, Harry quickly withdrew the money and handed it over.

As Harry went back to a seat and sat down, he felt a slight chill run down his spine. It was a familiar feeling, the same one he got whenever he got on the train to Hogwarts. Something was going to happen. Something big. His life was going to change again.

Like every time, it would never be the same.

* * *

Far away, in a dark, icy chamber, a shadowy figure watched in an orb of ice as the wizard sat down on the Night bus, oblivious of the events that his little bit of defiance of an old man had set in action. The figure allowed itself a slight grin as it watched, revealing white teeth and a pair of fangs. 

"The world is changing." It said to itself, in a voice like the wind. "The winter is approaching. And soon, the Forsaken will awaken… once more."

* * *

A/N: Hope that was a good beginning! I know that a lot of the stuff Harry brought up to himself sounds familiar to Dark Harry readers (with good reason). But its all just the impetus he needed to begin pushing himself too his destiny. Like it? Hate it? Regardless, please review! 

_Next chapter: Secrets are revealed, Goblins are alerted, Hermione makes her entrance, and an ancient power begins to stir._

_Korrag_


	2. Plots and Lordships

**A/N:** well that first chapter seems to be pretty popular. All of that response in less than a day! You guys make a guy real happy. Gratz to Damon Blade for being the only reviewer to recognize just which Forsaken I was referring to, though I will warn you that they have changed a great deal. Also, some of you may have noticed the change in the label of Dark but not evil Harry to just dark Harry. The reason for this will become apparent soon, and I rather hope you all enjoy it. And now, without further rambling, here is chapter two!

"talking"

'thinking'

_**SS**_Parceltongue_**SS**_

'_mindspeak'_

* * *

Chapter 2: Plots and Lordships

Harry's ride on the Night Bus was uneventful and quiet, which was indeed what he was hoping for. While he waited for the bus to reach the leaky cauldron, he occupied himself with thoughts of just what he would find in his vaults. He wasn't sure what he was hoping for more, a deed to a secure house or something left behind by his parents. Either one would be godsend in his opinion. Either way, he had a feeling that in his vaults he would find something that would bring about a change as profound as learning he was a wizard.

He soon arrived at the leaky cauldron. Quietly stepping off the bus, Harry skipped off under a slight overhang where the shadows covered him. Looking around to make sure no one was in sight, he took out his invisibility cloak and slipped it on. After insuring that he couldn't be seen he walked quietly as he could into the cauldron.

The pub was mostly empty, with only a few drunkards left at the bar and a few shadowy figures conducting business in the corner. Thus, it was easy for Harry to slip through without anyone noticing the small sounds his footsteps made. Slipping into the small back area with the entrance to the alley he pulled out his wand and discreetly tapped the bricks to open the alley.

Walking through the now opened wall, Harry emerged into the chaos that defined Diagon Alley even during the night. While many shops were closed for the night, others were open all the time and others were only open at night. Looking around at the sights as he walked. Harry was amazed at the changes that were apparent. The last thing he had expected to find in Diagon Alley was a genuine honest to God nightlife! Just walking down the street Harry could see many shops selling a few darker objects that he would've expected to find in knockturn alley. In addition, there were actually clubs, with music and dancing and all. To top it all off, Looking around Harry could spot a number of people who could easily be identified as vampires, making very little effort to hide what they were. A part of Harry was very tempted to take of his cloak and join in the fun in one of the clubs to indulge himself a bit.

Unfortunately it was very obvious that that would be a very bad idea. For while there were no aurors patrolling the alley, Harry could pick out several members of the order of the phoenix, including Bill, Tonks, and Kingsley. They were walking as inconspicuously as they could up and down the alley, most likely keeping a look out for any of Voldemort's minions. A waste of effort in Harry's opinion. The crowd out at this time of night was more than likely to be able to fend for itself, as compared to the day crowd. Even casual observation made it obvious that a good number of the people indulging in the nightlife were accomplished duelers.

Yes, beyond finding out about the Wizarding World's nightlife, there wasn't really anything surprising to see at all. Soon Harry was at the entrance to Gringotts bank, which was thankfully devoid of Order guards. Looking around to make sure, Harry found that besides him and the two goblin guards armed with heavy spears, the only other people near the bank were a witch that was wearing a heavy black cloak that obscured all of her features but left little doubt as to her gender, and a few men who were exiting the bank and who were talking about what sounded like business proposals of the shady sort. Feeling relatively safe, Harry slipped off his cloak, his hood still up, and walked through the door. He stopped when he thought he heard a small gasp of surprise from behind him, but attributed that to someone's surprise at seeing someone appear out of thin air.

Walking up to the Goblin teller, Harry slipped off his hood and said, "Good evening. I am Harry Potter, and I am here to inquire about the state of my finances."

The goblin looked at him and sneered a bit before saying, "Ahhh yes, Mr. Potter. We here at Gringotts were under the impression that you had no interest in your finances. If you'll just prick your thumb with this and allow a drop of blood to fall on this parchment to verify you are who you say you are, I can have you sent to one of our back rooms to talk with your account manager." Harry did as instructed, pricking his thumb with the runed dagger that the goblin handed to him. The blood dripped onto the parchment, before being absorbed by it. Where the blood had hit the parchment, the words Harry James Potter appeared. The goblin nodded to himself in satisfaction. "Now if you will just stand over there," he said, indicating a small gate down the room, "one of our employees will be along shortly to escort you to you account managers office."

Harry shrugged before moving over to the waiting area the goblin had indicated, allowing the witch in the dark cloak to move up to the teller and conduct her own business. As he passed her, he could've sworn he heard another quiet gasp of surprise, but he dismissed it as his imagination.

Harry waited for several minutes, becoming increasingly bored, before he noticed the black-cloaked witch from before approaching the waiting area. Deciding he might as well try and amuse himself with some light conversation, he turned to the witch and got out the words, "Hello, how are you this even-" Before cutting off in surprise from seeing the face that met him.

"Hermione!? What are you doing here!?"

She grinned at him a bit sheepishly. "Hello to you too Harry, I thought that was you in front of me."

Harry was surprised out of all measure, as Hermione was the last person he had expected to see in Diagon Alley at night wearing a dark cloak and robes like she was. Nonetheless he grinned.

"Why didn't you say something then? And really, why are you here?" he asked.

"I wasn't sure it was you," She replied, "And as for why I'm here, I could ask you the same thing. Aren't you supposed to be at the Dursleys'? I thought Dumbledore had guards there keeping an eye on you."

"Dumbledore should have thought of what he wanted before he let Dung guard the house. And I'm here to check out my finances."

"Really? Me too."

"Wait, why are you checking out your finances? I didn't even know you had an account here!" Harry exclaimed perplexed.

Hermione shrugged slightly. "Neither did I until I asked the teller and he said I did and sent me over here to wait for my account manager."

"Then…. Why did you come here to ask?"

Hermione had opened her mouth to answer when the door they were waiting by opened and a wizened old goblin, bent with age and wrinkled to the extreme stepped out and regarded them. "Harry Potter and Hermione Granger?" The goblin rumbled out in a rasping voice. At their nod, he said, "Ok then, follow me, both of you."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with an inquiring look, before following the old creature. As they were walking Harry asked, "Why did you ask for both of us?"

"Because I am the manager for both of your accounts." The goblin rasped back without turning or slowing. "Ah, here we are, my offices." The goblin led the two of them through black door with Goblin runes emblazoned on it, and the name Ripjaw under those. The room on the other side of it was shockingly large, amazingly so for the office of such a small creature. It had many banners displaying various family crests, likely the ones that Ripjaw was responsible for. Behind a heavy stone desk gilded with silver, there were two large banners, each emblazoned with a crest. One had a runed blade with several skulls and hammers crossed behind it, all of it covered in copious amounts of ice with the name Menethil beneath it. The other had a green raven with a female half mask and crossed arrows with the name Windrunner beneath it.

The Goblin, who was almost assuredly Ripjaw, motioned Harry and Hermione to a pair of chairs on one side of the desk, before going over to the other side and sitting down in the lone chair. He then regarded the two humans sitting across from him.

"Before we proceed, I'm supposed to ask if either of you have any objections to going through the proceedings together. If you do, I'll ask Miss Granger to step outside while I deal with Mister Potter's accounts." Harry and Hermione shared a look, before they each responded that they didn't have a problem with doing things at the same time.

The goblin nodded to himself. "Now first I must thank you both for arriving so promptly after receiving the letters asking you to come here tonight. Actually I rather thought that you would wait til morning at the earliest but the fact that you came when you did shows that you both realize just how serious this matter is.

"Excuse me sir, but I didn't receive a letter asking me to come. In fact I've never received any post from Gringotts at all." Harry interrupted Ripjaw. "I haven't either." Added Hermione.

Ripjaw's eyes widened. "You mean to tell me that neither of you has ever received any bank statements or notifications?" At their nod, Ripjaw grimaced, baring his teeth in anger. "Griphook!" He called, slamming his hand on a button on his desk.

Said goblin scrambled into the room, looking quite disheveled. "Yes master Ripjaw?" He said as he entered.

"These clients claim to have never received their bank statements or indeed any mail from Gringotts of any kind! What have you to say on this matter!?"

Griphook lost what little composure he had kept when he laid eyes on Harry and Hermione, who were watching him intently. He let out a very ungoblinlike squeak before attempting to flee out of the door with another word. He didn't get far, as Ripjaw, with speed and strength belying his aged appearance, rushed over and grabbed him by the neck, before dragging him back over to the desk.

"You weren't going somewhere, were you Griphook?" Ripjaw snarled through clenched teeth, "After all, we would all like to hear the reason why these fine clients of mine did not get the post they were supposed to, post which you were supposed to have sent! Well? Speak!!"

"He, he said they would never come, would never question, that he would take care of it all." The terrified goblin stuttered out in denial. "Just a simple thing, and so much gold in exchange."

"What thing!" Ripjaw snarled, shaking Griphook as he asked. "What exactly did you do! What were your instructions!"

"To not send any of the mail pertaining to any of the accounts belonging to Harry Potter or any of the mail pertaining to the Windrunner account!" The goblin squeaked out.

"Who told you not to send it? Who did you do this for!?" Ripjaw demanded.

"It, it was Alb" Was all that Griphook got out, for as he began to say the name of his employer, he suddenly went limp in Ripjaw's arms. Surprised, Ripjaw let him fall to the ground, where he promptly burst into black flames that quickly consumed him.

When nothing was left, Ripjaw turned to Harry and Hermione who had been watching intently and silently the whole time. "We at Gringotts sincerely regret this mess that has been made, and you can both be assured that you will each be compensated for any money that may have been lost because of the traitor's actions. It would appear that Gringotts will soon have to undertake an employee review to make sure that we have no others that take bribes. But, now that that is done, shall we get to the business at hand, for even if you did not receive your notifications, you are here.

Harry and Hermione, who were both rather surprised by the whole incident, nodded mutely.

"Good then! Now, let me explain. We here at Gringotts are responsible for making sure that anytime an ancient family has an heir, that the heir fulfills his or her duty to the family. You two have been called here because you both are heir to accounts that I hold sway over."

"But how can I be the heir to a family?" Hermione interrupted. "I'm muggleborn!"

Ripjaw, who looked a bit annoyed at the interruption, nonetheless explained. "Its simple really. Some lines died out on the magical side but had squib lines that bred with muggles and thus fell out of view. Because an heir to a magical family needs to be magical, the line is only reactivated when a magical child is born to the line. Satisfied?" Hermione nodded. "Good, now, moving on."

"To determine what families you are heir to, each of you must pricked your finger and allow a few drops of blood to fall on this parchment. Once you have done that, your name, along with any families you are heir to will appear and the tapestry of every family you are heir to will light up. Now Mr. Potter, if you would."

Taking the offered blade, a dagger not unlike the one that he had used in the lobby to confirm his identity, Harry once again pricked his thumb before allowing a few drops of blood to fall on the parchment before him. As before, the blood was absorbed, this time however, more then just his name appeared. The paper had instead been filled almost completely.

Harry James Potter-Menethil-Black Heir of Potter 

_Heir of Menethil_

_Heir of Black_

_Heir to the Frozen Keep of Icecrown_

_Heir to the Rune Blade FrostMourne_

_Heir to Black Manor_

_Heir to Castle Potter_

Harry was astounded by the sheer number of titles on his paper, and watched as the Banner with the Potter Crest of a Griffon and a Hippogriff combatant on a field of red and gold lit up, followed by the Black Crest banner with a Thestrel rampant over a silver skull on a black field, and finally the Menethil Banner, with its Blade, Skulls, and Hammers, frozen on a field of white and blue. 'Three families! Three, and one of them the most powerful by the looks of it! But…House Black?' "Ripjaw, how am I the Heir of House Black? Shouldn't that belong to Draco Malfoy?"

Ripjaw grinned, baring his wicked sharp teeth. "When Sirius Black, the previous heir died, he stated in his will that you and a Remus Lupin were his sole beneficiaries, leaving a fourth of the Black estate to Mr. Lupin, and leaving you the rest, along with all titles. Even though he was a recognized criminal to the Ministry, his will was still executed by us."

At Harry's nod of understanding Ripjaw turned to Hermione. "Now if you would repeat the process Miss Granger?" Hermione, after a moment's hesitation, took the dagger from Harry who was still staring with awe at the Menethil Crest and repeated the process. As her blood hit the parchment in front of her, it too began to list titles.

Hermione Jane Granger-Windrunner-Faranel 

_Heir of Windrunner_

_Heir of Faranel_

_Heir to the throne of the great Undercity_

_Heir to the Black Bow NightSong_

_Heir to the great Library of Faranel_

Hermione was equally gob smacked by what her paper revealedbut she was better athiding it. She watched as two banners lit up, the Faranel banner, with its Black book and crossed Daggers on green, and the Windrunner Banner, with its Emerald Raven, its white and red half-mask, and its crossed black arrows, all on gray. She was especially pleased to see the title of _Heir to the great Library of Faranel_. Her, owner of an entire library of books big enough to be called a Great Library. She quickly came to a conclusion; she _had_ to check out that library.

Ripjaw watched the two of them with a semi-amused expression on his old, wrinkled face, though that only served to make him uglier in truth. He had expected something of this sort as soon as he realized that neither of them knew what they were getting into. But there was still business to conduct so he cleared his throat rather loudly.

Harry and Hermione, who had both been in varying levels of stupor, snapped back to reality, and turned their attention back to Ripjaw, mildly embarrassed.

"Now that we've done that, we can get onto the next step. As you are both heirs to families that are down to just you, you are allowed to assume lordship over your families as early as fifteen. This will also have the effect of emancipating you in the Wizarding world's eyes, and thus you could claim any other headships or inheritances." He pulled out five boxes each bearing one of the crests of the families they were heir to. "Each of you must put on the headship rings to claim your rightful inheritances. The ring will decide whether you are worthy or not." He then pushed the Potter, Menethil, and Black boxes to Harry and the Windrunner and Faranel boxes to Hermione.

Harry first put on the Potter ring, slipping it on his right hands middle finger, which was emblazoned with the family crest. Upon putting it on, he felt a pressure fall over him, freezing him in place and making it hard to breath. The pressure seemed to last forever, before finally it abated. The ring then glowed Red and Gold, announcing its acceptance of Harry as Lord. He breathed a sigh of relief; his Father's family found him worthy.

Hermione took a turn next. Picking up the Faranel ring, she slipped it on her right middle finger. Immediately she felt as if she was being read, as if something as stripping her soul and baring its contents. The feeling was both painful and pleasurable, and all-around indescribable. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the feeling stopped, and the book on the ring opened up, displaying the word _accepted_. Hermione grinned. That meant that she was definitely getting that library!

It was Harry's turn to take a ring again. Grabbing the Black ring, he slipped it on his right index finger. This time, Harry was assailed by heat. It felt as if every bit of him was aflame with fire similar to that which had consumed Griphook before. Luckily, this feeling passed very quickly, and the Thestrel on the Black ring bowed its acceptance, before the ring merged with the Potter ring. Harry spared a questioning look at Ripjaw.

"That's normal," he said. "Just think of the ring you want displayed at any given moment and it will be the one that is visible. Also, the ring is invisible to anyone who you wish it to be."

"Well, that'll be useful," Harry replied, Hermione nodding in agreement as she reached for her next, and last ring.

Hermione quickly slipped the Windrunner ring onto her right index. Upon doing so, she felt as though she was being enveloped by a whirlwind. It surrounded her, shipping at her skin and eyes. The feeling lasted for about a minute, before the ring emitted an emerald green glow and melded with the Faranel ring on her middle finger. This ring left a lasting impression however. Upon putting it on, she felt as if a part of herself that had been blocked off was released. It felt… good. She grinned in happiness. It felt _real _good. Like she had found something she was missing.

As Hermione was feeling this, Harry was slipping on his last ring, the Menethil ring. As soon as it was fully on his right index finger, his body felt frozen, time around him seemed to stop, and everything became silent.

'_I see you followed my advice. A wise decision._'

'_It's you_' Harry exclaimed in his mind. '_The voice from before!_'

'_Yes, it's me. And I must say, I am really glad that you decided to follow my advice. It should improve things… for both of us._'

'_What do you mean? How will this improve things?_'

'_Come down to the Menethil vaults. You will find your answers there. I look forward to meeting you, long lord. I sense you are meant for great things._' With those words, the voice's presence departed and the room unfroze, the cold leaving Harry. The Menethil ring pulsed with a whitish-blue light, the runes on the emblems blade shining. Like Hermione, Harry too felt as if a part of himself had been missing and was now returned to him. It felt… right.

"Now my Lord, my Lady, I'm sure you would like to see your vaults? If you will follow me, I will take you too them."

Nodding to each other in easy understanding, both Harry and Hermione arose from their seats, and followed Ripjaw, heading to their vaults, and the beginning of their destinies.

* * *

**A/N:** well that was a long hall. It was a bit hard to write, but overall im pretty pleased. To anyone who knew what the Forsaken base idea was, I 'm sure you were at least somewhat surprised and I hope it was in a good way. For all of you who like Griphook…Sorry! Its just that most fics with goblins have him as an ok guy that Harry remembers the name of, thus revealing his feelings of respect towards goblins… I wanted something different :D. otherwise… like it? Hate it? Either way, review! They make me happy and are the reason I updated so fast! 

Korrag


	3. Letters and Heirlooms

**A/N: **I am once again astounded by the sheer size of the response I've been getting for this fic. I know it might not seem like much to some, but for me, it is extremely nice! Because of this, I once again am trying to update quickly, instead of playing WoW (a hard decision, so be grateful)). Just one review to reply to in this A/N because its one that seemed like a really good question.

**nurray: **Harry was going to ask Hermione why she came to Gringotts in the first place, but got sidetracked (see chapter 2 near the beginning.) Also, some things are kept so hidden even Hermione hasn't heard of them).

In this chapter, im sure you'll enjoy seeing a bit more of Dumble's manipulations, though these ones are more indirect. So now that im done rambling, please Sit back, Relax, and Enjoy the Show!

Disclaimer: Gah! I forgot to remind you guys in the first chapters that I don't own Harry Potter or Warcraft, and I still don't I do have a lv 66 Undead Warlock though).

"talking"

'thinking'

_**SS**_Parceltongue_**SS**_

'_mindspeak'

* * *

_

Chapter Three: Letters and Heirlooms

The cart rides down to the vaults in the bank were always an experience, and normally it was one that gave Harry a rush and Hermione nausea. This ride however, both of them were too distracted to be affected by what was happening to them. They were both too caught up in thoughts of their newfound heritage to really think much of wiping around at breakneck speeds, seemingly flirting with death with every turn and drop.

Hermione's thoughts were focused more on the title of _Lady of the Great Library of Faranel_ then on the other parts of what they had discovered. She liked to maintain that books weren't as high on her list of priorities as people said they were, but she couldn't lie to herself; she had an almost physical _need _to obtain knowledge, and the quickest way to do that was to read books. She had started to become dissatisfied with the Hogwarts Library. It was large true, but so much of the stuff in it was… _useless_. She had tentatively admitted to herself that she wasn't satisfied with just learning within the approved limits. So this library was like having Christmas come early… multiple days in a row!

Harry's thoughts were a bit more serious than Hermione's. He was dwelling mostly on what the voice had said to him while he was in the middle of being accepted by the Menethil ring. The fact that it had chosen that moment to speak to him, and had seemed to get stronger after he put that ring on, made Harry relatively sure that the voice had something to do with the Menethil line, but just what exactly, along with the identity of this mysterious "ally" remained a mystery, something which bugged Harry quite a bit. Of course, the voice had proven itself helpful, regardless of its own goals, as its prompting him towards Gringotts had led to his emancipation, and his discovering of secrets that had been kept from him about his heritage (quite likely under the orders of Dumbledore, assuming that the "Alb" which the late Griphook got out was the first syllable for Albus, Dumbledore's first name.) Heir to not one, not two, but _three_ families! Who would have guessed!

The thought of him being the heir to _three _families, made Harry remember something, so he turned to the goblin who was driving the cart, Ripjaw's replacement for Griphook, a younger goblin named Roknar, and asked, "Do you know which of our vaults are closer to where we are now?"

The goblin looked just a bit affronted at the question, and replied, "Of course I know which one is closest! That would be the Potter vault, which we are coming up on now."

"Could you please stop at that one first," Harry said, trying to ignore the slight he had heard in the goblin's reply. He was getting tired of putting up with crap from everyone.

The goblin gave a noncommittal grunt, but when they came to a large vault with the Potter crest on it, he did stop as asked. The cart stopping had jolted Hermione out of her thoughts, and she looked at Harry in question.

"Please give me a moment Hermione, there are just some things I feel I need to check in the Potter vault." She nodded her assent and stretched out a bit in the cart, trying to get comfortable. Harry turned away and got out of the cart, walking up to his vault where Roknar stood.

The door was huge, emblazoned with the crest of House Potter. Harry was just about to ask Roknar how to open the vault, when suddenly his house ring changed to the Potter ring and began to glow. The symbol on the door glowed in response, and the doors began to rumble open, as a deep voice said from nowhere "Welcome, Lord of House Potter."

The vault was huge, and filled with wealth like Harry had never imagined. Everywhere he looked there seemed to be boxes filled with gold. Harry walked into the vault a bit, all alone, and began to look around. As he looked around he found many interesting things, such as an entire wall of books that looked to be both old and rare, something he was sure Hermione would have been drooling over if not for her own inheritance, as well as a wall that was covered in weapons of all kinds. There was a wall with old wands from Potters long dead, as well as a gigantic tapestry displaying the Potter Family tree. There was even a section of the vault filled with rare and odd-looking artifacts, none of which Harry recognized.

All of these were passed by, as Harry continued searching for what he was looking for in the vault in the first place. Finally, in a section that seemed to be reserved for the possessions of Potters recently passed on, recently being the last three generations or so. Harry found it.

"It" was a trunk, marked with the crest of House Potter with the name _James Andrew Potter_ written beneath that. On top of it was a note, addressed to him. Taking it reverently from the top of the trunk, Harry began to read it.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this then you are seventeen and of age, and your mother and me aren't here to see it. However we died, whether by the hand of Voldemort or another, we are very sorry that we are not there for you. Chances are that we died while in hiding, though as I write this, Lily is beginning to go on about the strength of Dumbledore's Fidelius Charm, but honestly I don't understand half of what she's saying. I guess its because im not a charms master. Regardless, It still seems unlikely that you'll have to read this as I think about it. Sirius' plan to switch the secret keeper from him to Peter is really quite ingenious, something totally unexpected. Even Dumbledore agreed with us when we told him, just before I began to write this._

_Still despite the fact that I doubt you'll need to read this, I best get on with it. First thing you should know, the Potter vault you are standing in now is truly hard to keep track of in your head, so long ago our ancestors enchanted a Ledger to keep track of everything. The ledger can be found on the wall just to the left of the door as you walk in. When you want to find something in the vault, just open the ledger, say "find" and then what you need. The ledger will list every version of what your looking for that is in the vault as well as the area you can find them in. Useful little tool that._

_There is so much I wish I could tell you about, things that if you are reading this I never got to say to you. However, since I only have a limited amount of space, and your mother wants to write something for you, just in case, I'll sum it up as simply as I can; I love you son. Grow up, prank the hell out of people, marry a pretty girl, have kids, and generally be happy._

_Love,_

_James Potter, your Father_

Harry was a bit chocked up after he finished that part of the letter, but he moved on to the next part, which was written by his mother.

If you are reading this Harry dear, it means that we are dead, and as your father wrote, we are sorry. I can only hope that Sirius and Annabelle took good care of you, as a Godfather and Godmother should.

_I can't really give you very much information on the vaults, as all I owned I moved into the Potter vaults when I married your father, but I do have something to say on the topic. As you probably know if you are in the vaults and have done a heritage test with the goblins, you are the heir to a family called Menethil, with a vault near the very bottom of Gringotts, in the oldest section. I truly don't know much about them, for I had never heard of them, and when I tried looking them up, every source I looked in drew up a blank. I finally approached Dumbledore about it, and when I mentioned the name he got an odd look in his eye, before warning me to stay away from it, saying that the legacy of Menethil should never be disturbed. The answer was a bit cryptic for my tastes, but the look he had in his eyes convinced me to listen to him. A part of me still regrets doing so, but I did not put on the headship ring. What you do with your Heritage is your decision, and I ask only one thing from you._

_Make you own choices. Don't let anyone, even Dumbledore decide who you are. That is something you and only you can decide. Please, follow my advice on this, and be happy. Try and live life with no regrets. Take care sweetie._

_With all my love, _

_Lily Potter, your Mother._

Harry was crying by the end of the letter. His parents had had no idea they were going to be betrayed. They cared about him, they really did, and now he had proof. Of course some of the other things in the letters infuriated him, particularly the fact that Dumbledore had known. He had known all along that Peter was their secret keeper and he still had let Sirius suffer in Azkaban for twelve years! And where did he get off, telling Harry's mother to ignore her heritage. Harry had immediately felt power when he had put on the head ring, power that made him feel better than he had in years. Yet Dumbledore had cautioned Lily against opening the Menethil vault or accepting the headship ring.

Did Dumbledore know something about Menethil? If he did, did that mean that he knew something about Hermione's Faranel and Windrunner vaults as well? Reading what Dumbledore had told his mother cemented it for Harry; he was going to have to open the Menethil vault. And he was going to have to do it now.

* * *

At the same time Harry is in the Vault:

Hermione was getting anxious, restless, and overall tired of waiting to get to her new vaults. The events of the past few hours had been one surprising revelation after another. Hours? It seemed more like days. It had all started as she lay in bed, having an internal debate that she had been having more and more frequently lately.

Flashback: Hermione lay in her room, on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Books, some opened, some closed, were strewn around her and the bed haphazardly, as if someone had been in the middle of reading one before becoming bored and switching books mid-page. It was a very unusual way for things to look in the room of a bibliophile. Hermione let out a drawn out sigh, thinking about what had been bugging her for the past few weeks, ever since the department of mysteries; should she limit herself in what she should learn? Ever since she had been hit by that flame whip spell by Mcnair, the very thought of which made her rub the place on her stomach where she was hit, she had been resolved to learn better combat spells. It had been painfully obvious to her that they were vastly overmatched in a true duel. The only reason they had even survived was because they knew how to work together, were able to use the environment to their advantage, and the death eaters weren't shooting to kill, at least at first. Not to mention the fact that they were lucky… very lucky. Unfortunately, when she began to peruse the Hogwarts library for books on battle magic, she was disappointed with what she found. Just about every spell in the books she found had an easy counter, with most of them having the same one. She found two hundred spells alone that a simple Protego would block. She began to become desperate, thinking that there was no way she would find a useful book on battle magic after searching through over a hundred books in the library, when a thought occurred to her. Use the room of requirement. She decided to act on the idea immediately, and quickly reached the corridor where the room was located. Walking past it three times, she practically screamed in her head 'I need a library on Battle Magic, I need a Library on Battle Magic, I need a library on real Battle Magic!' The door appeared quickly, taking shaping from the blank wall, and as soon as it was fully there she opened it and walked in.

The room of requirement had taken on the form of a library, but one with a decidedly dark feel to it. The walls were black and the bookshelves were made of a black wood. Even the candles that burned to provide illumination to the room were black in color. It did nothing to dampen Hermione's excitement when she saw the amount of books however. It was a nice sized collection, about the size of a section of the main library, but Hermione knew that they were all what she was looking for. Battle magic. Useful battle magic. She ran up to the nearest bookshelf and reached out to grab one of the books before she stopped and pulled back her hand, looking closer at the books on the shelf and the one she had been about to grab. The book was bound in black, with skulls crawling up and down the spine, and the title Ten Thousand Ways to Dismember your Enemies written on the side. It seemed to give off an air of menace and power. It was clearly more than a mere book on Battle Magic. It was a book on Dark magic as well. Hermione cast her gaze about the books filling the room. All of them seemed to be similar in color and in the air they gave off to the one she had been about to pick up. Which meant that the entire library of Battle Magic was also a library on dark magic. Did that mean she shouldn't read them. Dark magic was supposed to be evil… but the light magic books she had looked at for battle spells had all been woefully inadequate. Was the answer to learn some of the darker arts? Hermione shook her head, lost in indecision, and left the room of requirement, unsure of what she was going to do

From that moment on, Hermione had been caught up in an internal debate, one that raged on almost constantly. Should she learn the darker arts, the true battle magic, or should she resolve to find another way. This led to many more questions, not the least of which was what makes a spell dark. What makes a piece of knowledge evil? Is it the knowledge itself, or is it the intent with which the knowledge is used? It was tearing her up inside, not having an answer, and she had begun researching the topic obsessively. Unfortunately, she could not find a single book that gave solid information. All that she could find was rhetoric on just how evil dark spells were, and why a good and just person should never cast them. Nothing about why a spell was dark or what made it that way.

And that was what she was debating about with herself that night. 'Everything I've found and looked at seems to indicate that dark spells are focused in battle magic and rituals that serve various purposes, but that still doesn't answer the question of why they are dark! Why call the most powerful spells witches and wizards can learn to defend themselves dark and forbid their use? It makes no sense!'

_'It does if your trying to control who has power, and trying to make sure that no one is more powerful than you without having them complain about restrictions.'_

Hermione jumped a bit. Those definitely weren't her thoughts. _'Is someone there?'_ she asked tentatively in her head.

_'Well you can hear me I assume, and I did give you an opinion you hadn't come up with, and I don't believe you have MPD. So yes, someone is here.'_

Hermione was less surprised the second time she heard the voice, but she was still surprised to hear a voice speaking in her head. It sounded like a soft breeze blowing through trees, light and free.

_'You have a good point about control,'_ Hermione said in her head, in response to whoever was talking to her. _'But who is paranoid enough to put such restrictions on magic?'_

_'Politicians for one,'_ came the answer in a somewhat amused sounding voice. _'Anyone who is in power and is afraid to lose it really. Your great "hero" Dumbledore falls into the category of those who want powerful magic banned as well, though his reasons stem more from the fact that he is a firm believer that everyone deserves a second chance… and a third… and a fourth.'_

_'Ok, I'll admit that those are pretty sound points, though im not sure I agree entirely on the subject of Dumbledore. After all, he's been nothing but kind and generous and helpful to me.'_ Hermione replied after a moment's consideration.

_'If that is what you wish to believe of the man, far be it from me to try and change it.'_ Hermione could almost hear the shrug in the voice's nonchalant reply.

_'Umm, thanks for the input by the way… you've given me some interesting things to think about… but… who are you?'_

The voice chuckled easily_ 'I am… a friend who is closer to you than you may think. I am an ally who is willing to help you find the truth.'_

_'And what is the truth?'_

_'That… remains to be seen. If you wish to continue this conversation and learn more, then I suggest you go to Gringotts bank. Im sure you'd find it most enlightening if you were to ask if you had any vaults. Until then, Farewell.'_ With those parting words, Hermione felt the presence the voice had been exerting depart leaving her to ponder its words.

End Flashback

Hermione didn't have to ponder long. Within fifteen minutes of the strange conversation ending she was on the Night Bus on her way to Diagon Ally, dressed in her best robes for concealing her identity. And now here she was, having learned many interesting things, just as the voice had promised.

_'Of course you did! I always mean what I say'_

Hermione was startled for a moment, but only by the suddenness of the voice's reappearance. She had been expecting to hear from it again, but had been expecting a bit of warning.

_'Sorry about startling you, but you were so busy reminiscing that you wouldn't have noticed anyway I could've alerted you to my presence as it were.'_ The voice said sounding rather amused.

_'I suppose it's nice to hear from you again,'_ Hermione replied. _'You were indeed right about me finding things out. I can't help but notice that you're more noticeable, clearer than you were before. It's because I chose to become the head of Windrunner and Faranel isn't it? Your power is linked to those families isn't it?'_

_'Perceptive as ever, aren't you Hermione? But then, you are the new lady of Faranel. The thirst for knowledge and ability to pick up on things so quickly has always been hallmark of the family. Of course, what would you expect from a family that has the title_ "Keepers of the Great Library?" _To answer your question, you're half-right. I have nothing to do with House Faranel, though I am well acquainted with it.'_

_'So your linked to House Windrunner. Does that mean that Harry is hearing a voice linked to House Menethil? I noticed that the two houses were right next to each other in Ripjaw's office.'_

_'Ahhh, truly you are a daughter of the House Faranel Hermione. Yes your friend Harry is hearing the voice of my counterpart of House Menethil.'_

_'What is this all about anyway? Why are you speaking to me? Why is Harry being spoken too? Where is this going to go?'_

_'You'll find all of your answers down in the Windrunner vault, I assure you. Now I think you should get ready to go down there. Your friend is returning and he seems to have found something to anger him in his vault.'_ With those words, the presence departed from Hermione's mind. She blinked a few times and took in her surroundings; with the first thing she noticed being the approach of Roknar and Harry, the latter of which did indeed look pissed off.

"Find what you were looking for?" Hermione asked Harry.

He looked at her and nodded wordlessly. His eyes were like ice, hard and cold with anger. He leaned forward to Roknar and whispered in a deadly tone, 'If you want to keep your head you will get this cart to the Menethil and Windrunner vaults in the next five minutes, understand?" The goblin, which had lost every bit of his sneer, nodded meekly and pushed forward a lever that sent the cart careening forward at a faster pace than it had before.

"Harry, you came to Gringotts tonight because you were contacted by… a voice, right?"

Harry nodded at her in surprise. "How did you-" He began, before being interrupted by Hermione.

"I came for the same reason." She proceeded to give him an abbreviated version of what had been happening to her recently, a gesture that Harry reciprocated. She gave him a one armed hug when he brought up his grief at Sirius, a gesture that made him both mildly uncomfortable and mildly desirous at the same time. Soon though, they arrived in the very deepest part of the bank, where the cart stopped.

Getting out of the cart, Harry and Hermione found a tunnel, rather than a vault door. When they looked to Roknar, who was panting from the exertion of keeping the speeding cart on track, for an explanation, told them "The vault your looking for has been there since the bank was founded over one thousand years ago, though then it was based mostly underground. It was made before the cart system was made, so it's down that tunnel, and has been undisturbed for over a hundred years. Come, I'll lead you there."

They proceeded down the tunnel at a brisk pace, but it seemed to go on forever. After what seemed like an hour of walking through the dark, it began to get colder. It continued to get colder, until finally they began to see ice on the walls. When Hermione pulled out her wand and performed a heating charm, the spell was cast but the effect was negligible. Suddenly, Harry stopped, the Hermione and Roknar stopping with him.

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

Hermione strained to hear, and just barely was able to make out what sounded like dripping, metal dragging across stone, and…snoring? 'What the hell could be sleeping down here?'

They looked at each other and nodded after a moment, before continuing on. As they went further the noises began to increase in volume, becoming gradually louder until it began to get almost obnoxious. Then they came to the end of the tunnel and the source of the noise.

The tunnel opened up into a large room, with icicles hanging from the ceiling. Torches lined the walls, casting a dim light. Across from them were two vault doors, one with the Menethil Crest, and one with the Windrunner Crest. Despite the impressiveness of the room, their attention was drawn to the center of the room and what was in it.

Standing in the center of the room, was the most monstrous thing Harry and Hermione had ever seen. It looked like someone had taken random pieces of bodies and stitched them together, grafting on metal objects as they went along. It was like a madman's jigsaw puzzle. Blood was dripping from a gaping hole in its chest, from which entrails could be seen hanging out. The things head had two misshapen eyes, and what looked like huge teeth. And it was the source of the snoring.

Hermione saw it and let out an involuntary scream of horror and revulsion, before she could cover her mouth. The scream echoed around the cavernous room, seeming to repeat endlessly. The creature stirred. Its snoring stopped. Its eyes opened.

It regarded the interlopers with semi-intelligent eyes for a few seconds before asking in a in a disgusting voice "Who you?"

"I'm Her.. Hermi.. Hermione Gra Gra Granger, and thi this is Har-r-ry Pot-t-ter."

The creature eyed them for a few moments before exclaiming "You trespassers! Me smash trespassers!" and beginning to rush them, its many hooked appendages swinging wildly.

"No, wait stop!" Harry yelled out, throwing up his arms out of reflex as the creature approached him and Hermione. And miraculously, it did just that.

Harry lowered his hands a bit so he could regard the creature, which was even worse looking up close, and noticed it staring at his right hand. Silently hoping he was right, he willed the ring to become the Menethil ring. The creature grunted and looked at Hermione, who had caught on and was showing her Windrunner ring. The creature grunted again.

"Oh. You Heirs. Me is Patchwork. Me is guard for vaults. Me is making sure vaults stay safe. You Heirs so me not hurt you, and small trespasser run away."

Harry and Hermione stared at the creature incredulously for a few moments silently. What kind of vault guardian was this thing? Who made such things?

'Umm, Patchwork," Hermione said. "What are you and who made you?"

"Me not remember who made Patchwork, Patchwork just wake up in room and told to guard doors from intruders. So Patchwork guard. And me already say what Patchwork is! Patchwork is Patchwork."

Hermione, though still a little sick from her initial sight of the creature, couldn't help but let out a sigh. This thing was stupid! Harry just laughed. "Patchwork, please move out of the way," he said to the monstrosity.

"Patchwork obey Heir." It said, moving out of their way before falling silent.

Harry and Hermione, after one last glance at Patchwork, walked up to the two doors. As they approached, their rings glowed, and each door opened.

"I guess this is where we part ways for now," said Harry looking at Hermione.

"Yes I guess it is."

"See you in a few?"

"Yes, now lets see what we came all this way for that warrants that thing as a guard."

Without another word, Hermione turned, and determinedly walked in, Harry going through his door moments later.

* * *

Hermione's vault

Hermione walked down a short corridor lit by torches flickering with emerald flame before coming into another room. This room was smaller than the last room, and only had one door. In front of Hermione was a set of stairs, leading up to a door proudly displaying the Windrunner symbol. And on that door was a bow, black as night, with black diamonds on the tips and runes engraved up and down its length. Entranced by it, Hermione walked up the stairs and laid one hand upon it.

_'Hello, my friend. I am NightSong.'

* * *

_

Harry's vault

Harry walked briskly through the ice filled corridor that was alight with blue flames, before arriving in a room with one door across from him. It was up a flight of stairs and upon it was a blade, made of steel that shimmered blue and white, with runes running down its length and a skull letting off freezing air for a pommel. It was the sword from the Menethil symbol. Putting two and two together, Harry walked up the stairs, and grasped the blade.

_'Hello, Harry Potter, Heir of Menethil. I am your inheritance. I… am FrostMourne.'

* * *

_

And far away, an old man, pacing in a strange office in a huge castle that was empty only during the summer, paused as he felt a chill of foreboding run down his spine.

* * *

**A/N: **Whew! That was a long one! But ironically it was the easiest for me to write. I hope you all enjoyed Patchwork, as he was very fun to write. But, as you know… Like it? Hate it? Either way, please review!

Korrag


	4. Explainations and Bonding

**A/N: **well, once again im finding myself quite happy with all of the reviews im getting. I rather enjoyed last chapter and im happy to know that you guys did to. But now it comes to the real meat of things happening. Also, im glad you guys liked Patchwork! He is my favorite OC yet! He's like a big, stupid, loyal dog (made of sown up body parts). A lot of stuff will be revealed this chapter, so it will be longer then the others. But im rambling. So without further ado, he comes chapter 4 of Rise of the Forsaken!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or Warcraft, I do have a lv 66 Undead Warlock on Medivh though.

"talking"

'thinking'

_**SS**_Parceltongue_**SS**_

'_mindspeak'

* * *

_

Chapter 4: Explanations and Bonding

_'Hello, Harry Potter, Heir of Menethil. I am your inheritance. I… am FrostMourne.'_

The pronouncement from the blade in Harry's hand seemed to reverberate throughout his entire being. He recognized the voice of the blade. He recognized it all too easily.

"You! It's been your voice goading me!" He exclaimed out loud.

_'Now, now, there's no need to yell at me is there? I mean, its not like you would've come otherwise. No, you'd still be Dumbledore's little puppet savior, all ready to be a martyr for the cause.' But now… now you have a chance, don't you?'_

Harry calmed himself a bit before replying, "Do I? I don't know. I really have very little idea what I have gained from coming here. …Explain."

The presence Harry could feel emanating from FrostMourne seemed to stiffen a bit. _'Very well. If you wish to know what you have gained, I will explain it to you. To do this though, I will have to start at the beginning. Is that acceptable.'_

"Yes," Harry replied, becoming impatient. "Just start talking."

_'As you have surmised, I am a runeblade, the one mentioned when you learned of your inherited titles. What is not mentioned is the fact that I am so much more than a simple runeblade. I have existed for well over a thousand years now and have had several hundred wielders, every one of them one of your ancestors. And, like your ancestors, I was not originally of this world.'_

"What one bloody moment," Harry broke in. "Are you trying to say that my ancestors are from an entirely different world? That YOU were made on an entirely different world?"

_'Yes that is exactly what I am trying to tell you. Now stop talking and let me finish explaining! Now, the Menethil family was originally a line of kings, of a human kingdom called Lorderon on the world of Azeroth. Azeroth was a world that was very different from this one, where every race lived openly and magic was accepted as a daily part of life. However, that abundance of magical energy eventually led to that world's downfall. For the arcane energies that were being used on Azeroth attracted the attention of a being known as Sargeras and his army, the Burning Legion._

_Sargeras, a being with godlike power, was bent on using his legions of demons to cleanse the universe of all life, starting with worlds that were magically advanced. For thousands of years the legion rampaged across the universe, burning whole worlds to ash in the burning crusade against life. No force had ever been able to oppose them. But the first time they attacked Azeroth, they were driven back. Their way into the world denied to them, the legion pulled back, and began planning, scheming to break into Azeroth once more. Eventually, they came across the world of Dranor. Corrupting the inhabitants of the world, they had portals opened to Azeroth, causing great wars between the peoples of Azeroth and Dranor. Finally, with every race on Azeroth weakened, the demons launched their plan. They created the Undead._

_Subjecting the spirit of a being called Ner'zhul, they cast him into the frozen north and gave him a plague of undeath, with which to sow havoc upon the living. Conquering the Nerubian spider empire of Northrend, Ner'zhul, who came to be known as the Lich King, set his sights on the human kingdom of Lorderon. Creating a cult of followers through the use of agents, the most prominent of which was named Kel'thuzad, a human wizard of great power, he spread the plague throughout Lorderon, beginning its destruction. However, Ner'zhul was not satisfied with his lot. He knew that as soon as the demons were done using him, they would dispose of him. So he created a means of getting a new corporeal body. He created me.'_

"Wait, How could you help this Ner'zhul guy get a new body," Harry asked confused, planning on holding his reservations about talking to something made by what clearly sounded like a dark entity for after the explanation.

_'Its rather simple really. When I was created I was a vampiric runeblade. In short, I drained the life out of what I cut and the soul out of my wielder, binding him to the Ner'zhul's will. The Lich King cleverly began to draw the young champion and prince of Lorderon, Arthas Menethil to Northrend. There, driven by desperation at the forces of Undead he was facing and his anger at what they had done to his homeland, Arthas, despite knowing that I was cursed, took me up and used me to destroy the forces arrayed against him, who were conveniently led by the demon overseer of Ner'zhul. Driven insane by the Lich Kings whisperings that he began to hear as soon as he took me up, Arthas became a Death Knight, sworn to the Lich King's service, and destroyed the kingdom that he had once sworn to defend. He led the Lich Kings undead armies if the Scourge on a rampage throughout every land adjacent to his homeland, sacking not only human kingdoms but the ancient elven land of Quel'thalas. While destroying the elves, he killed and raised the spirit of the elven general, Sylvanus Windrunner, turning her into a dark banshee. Eventually, the entire continent was subdued, and Arthas confident in his rule._

_As all of this was taking place however, two things were happening. First, the Burning Legion had been defeated by a collation of races in the lands of Kalimdor. The second thing that happened was the Lich King losing much of his power. Creating me left a crack in the Lich King's icy prison, through which his power was leaking out. As he lost power, his control over the undead began to wane. It was because of this, that Sylvanus, who had served the Lich King in her mindless state, regained her free will, along with many others. Staging a rebellion, they drove Arthas out of the capitol of his newly formed kingdom, and claimed it for their own, establishing themselves as the Forsaken, a nation of free willed undead. Arthas went north, to the Lich King's Frozen throne, to defend his master from enemies who had thought to destroy him in his moment of weakness. Defeating his foes, Arthas climbed the icy steps leading to the throne and stood before it. At the Lich Kings urging, Arthas thrust me into the throne, breaking it, and joining the spirit of Ner'zhul to Arthas, creating a new entity, and changing me. With my original purpose fulfilled, I was made more powerful, but was made to stop stealing the soul of my wielder._

_Arthas, now the Lich King, led the Scourge in his own campaign to conquer Azeroth. Despite his insanity, which had not been undone by the joining, he very nearly succeeded in his goals. The only thing that stopped him was an attack on Icecrown itself, the seat of his power, by a coalition of every other nation in the world, led by Sylvanus Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, wielder of the Black Bow NightSong. However, it was not victory in battle that stopped him. It was betrayal._

_While Sylvanus and her forces fought Arthas and his forces to a stalemate, her "allies" sought to cast a spell that would cast the undead, all of them, into the twisting nether, the chaotic dimension between the world where the Burning Legion dwelled. However, Arthas and Sylvanus, who were locked in an epic duel on the very top of Icecrown, both sensed the spellwork. In a moment of mutual understanding, they cut short their battle and used their vast magical energies, augmented by me and NightSong, to redirect the spell, the most they could do, to throw them and their peoples to another world, rather then into the Nether. Finishing their work at the same instant as the other races cast the spell, Sylvanus, NightSong, Arthas, every undead present, and me were thrown through the nether to this world._

_We landed in the far north, in the artic circle, near the top of the world. The battle would likely have recommenced immediately, if not for one major factor; the energy of the nether, as well as of this world, changed us. Every undead, Scourge and Forsaken both, found that they had their free will back, and Arthas regained his sanity. Despite the enmity for each other that they had, the Lich King and Banshee Queen called a truce to discern just what kind of world they were in and what their next course of action would be. What they found was astounding._

_One of the constants of undeath had always been the fact that the undead were little more than risen spirits and walking corpses, much like Patchwork who you encountered outside of the vault. However, many undead found that they were regenerating. They ere still clearly undead, but were becoming something more than what they had been. It was discovered that these regenerated undead retained all of the advantages of undeath, while regaining many of the uses of life, such as a fully functional body, the five senses, and the ability to breed. They became a true breeding race, and as such deemed that change was needed._

_The regenerated undead fell into four primary types; former Nerubians, who kept their old name, former Humans, who began to call themselves the Turned, former elves, who had become Greater Banshees like Sylvanus had done when she acquired NightSong, and Draknids, who were once being known as dragonspawn, what you might equate to a dragon version of a centaur. These four new races of undead, each led by their chosen leaders, decided to form a new society in the cold north. They united as the Forsaken, for they were truly forsaken by all. The new nation was led by a council, upon which each races leader sat. Most importantly, Arthas, who became leader of the Turned, and Sylvanus, who led the Banshees, each had a seat on the council. Eventually, the Forsaken became a major nation, controlling the entire north. However, it was not to last._

_The undead had first arrived during the time of Merlin, about five hundred years before the founding of Hogwarts and because they were relatively few after such a great battle, they went unnoticed, however, by the time of the founders, they began to attract notice from wizards. This stemmed mostly from the fact that the Forsaken had begun making overtures to the only undead native to this world, the vampires, to get them to join the Forsaken. The founders and others, upon learning of thousands of Undead existing north of them, were gripped with fear, however irrational. Convinced that the Forsaken would eventually seek to destroy them, they set about preparing a mighty spell that would eliminate the threat. Eventually, they finished the spell work, and a circle of over one hundred arch wizards, led by the four founders themselves, cast the spell, which removed the entire Forsaken kingdom from then rest f the world, casting them into a pocket dimension. Their only miscalculation was thinking that all the Forsaken were in their homeland. They were almost correct, save for two, the then Lich King and Banshee Queen, Durran Menethil and Aliana Windrunner._

_When those two sensed what had happened to their people, they immediately set about trying to find a way to reverse it. However, much to their dismay, they found that they did not have the requisite power to accomplish this feat. Casting the spell took hundreds of powerful spellcasters, however undoing it would be even harder. Eventually, the two of them formed a desperate plan. They altered the nature of NightSong and me, by making us symbiotic. The basic change that occurred was this; every wielder of NightSong or I would leave a piece of their soul in us, and to balance it out we would become a part of them so to speak, bonded to them by the piece of them in us. With this change, we would eventually have enough power from all of our wielders that at some point our wielders could break the enchantment on the Forsaken freeing them. After they did that, they faded into the background, living their lives and amassing wealth and power, so that their descendents could have the resources they needed to live and eventually free their people. Their line passed down, eventually fading into obscurity, before they were unfortunately discovered by a wizard organization known as the Scarlet Guard._

_The Scarlet Guard had been formed at the time of the sealing of the Forsaken, with the goal of eliminating any remaining undead that may have escaped the spell. They remained ever vigilante, and almost by accident discovered the presence of the Menethil and Windrunner line outside of the spell. Eventually they hunted down and destroyed the then wielders of NightSong and me, but not before our wielders were able to hide both their children and us away, us in the vaults you stand in now, the children in a pair of muggle families, having used powerful magic to hide their heritage. Thus, until recently, the Scarlet Guard was unaware of the survival of the Menethil and Windrunner lines.'_

"When Dumbledore found out about my mothers heritage," Harry said, realizing what FrostMourne meant. He was rather stunned by the tale he had just heard a tale of the birth of a race and great battles. He found it very hard to believe, but believe it he did. Something in him just screamed to him that it was true, it had to be true. He was considering all of this when a new question came to him,

"You mentioned that my ancestors were of a race of undead called the Turned. If that is the case, then why is it that I am fully human? Wouldn't I also have the blood of my ancestor's race flowing through my veins?

_'You do. Its just currently sealed away, both by the magic of your ancestors to hide your line from the Scarlet Guard and by Dumbledore, who realized what you were but couldn't afford to kill you because of the prophecy. Dumbledore's blocks pose a problem though.'_

"I'm assuming that Dumbledore is a member of this Scarlet Guard you mentioned?"

_'He is, though that's not the problem. He may be powerful, but he's still mortal. No the problem is that the blocks he placed on top of your Menethil heritage are a form that grows stronger over time. Your heritage would have emerged on its own on your seventeenth birthday, the magic binding it sensing that NightSong and I had enough strength that once you were trained you could break the spellwork the founders worked. However, by that time, the blocks Dumbledore placed on your heritage will have grown to strong to be broken in that manner, which would have unfortunate side effects on you. Which means that they need to be taken off as soon as possible. That is, unless you wish to turn your back on your heritage?'_

Harry had to think about that one. On the one hand, he had Dumbledore, who had been trying to manipulate him since day one, had placed him with the Dursleys, had kept numerous secrets from him, and was to blame for Sirius' twelve years in Azkaban. On the other hand, he had his heritage, a chance at power and revenge, but at the cost of effectively turning dark and becoming something other than human and a part of his soul. In the end it came down to one thing… his morals, or his life. In the end, it wasn't really that hard of a decision at all.

"How do we do it?"

Harry got the impression of a grin from the sword. _'I was hoping you would say something along those lines. It's pretty simple really. The moment you put on the Menethil ring it created a spider web of cracks in the familial barrier, making it so it will shatter with very little force needed. However, to break Dumbledore's blocks after sixteen long years will require you to learn to wield me effectively, to use my power as your own. That means that you will have to bond with me._

Harry hesitated a bit upon hearing that, but reminded himself that he had made his decision. "How?" he asked.

_'Simply take me from my rack on the wall and allow me to taste some of your blood. The rest will attend to itself.'_

Harry nodded before taking FrostMourne in his hands. The sword seemed almost weightless in his hands, and fairly pulsed with power. Taking a breath and bracing himself, Harry held the blade horizontally before him and ran his hand over the edge, cutting himself and letting his blood run over the blade. He tried his best to ignore the icy pain in his hand as he watched as the blood was slowly absorbed into the metal of the blade. For a moment, nothing else happened. Then, the runes on the sword began to pulse an icy blue, and Harry was suddenly engulfed in pain. Each pulse of the runes caused another wracking pain to shudder through him, and he began to scream at the pain. It was almost unbearable. His vision began to dim around its edges, and eventually, amid blinding pain, Harry's world went dark.

* * *

_The Windrunner vault, with Hermione._

_'I am glad to know that you are going to accept your heritage, young lady of Windrunner. It will be nice to have someone to use me again, rather than sitting in this old vault for eternity.'_

Hermione nodded confidently in return, hefting the NightSong over her shoulder. She had already begun to suspect something of what would be asked of her as soon as she had seen Patchwork, and considering her internal conflict over whether or not the use of the Dark Arts are evil, she was pretty easily convinced by the tale NightSong had told her. As far as she was concerned, the only reason her doubts were appearing in the first place was the truth of her heritage beginning to shine through. The feeling she had gotten when she put on the ring was so right that she decided almost immediately to embrace her newfound heritage. She had begun to be wary of anything Dumbledore said anyway, and he was almost certainly responsible for this being kept a secret from her.

The bonding she had gone through with NightSong had been an intense experience, not entirely devoid of pain, but that was bound to happen when your soul was being joined to a weapon. NightSong had mentioned to her that this was partly because her soul and magic were largely devoid of outside influences, with only, she was disgusted to find the lingering effects of a few love potions someone had been slipping her. These NightSong purged during the bonding, which caused additional pain. Hermione cringed at what Harry was likely going through, assuming he had decided to accept his heritage. With all of the outside influences on him, what from Voldemort and likely Dumbledore, he was likely in agony.

_'So, what do we do now?'_ Hermione asked NightSong, speaking through her mind.

_'Well, until FrostMourne and Harry are bonded there won't be much to get done, as it was decided that both heirs must be present and bonded with their weapons before they would be allowed to learn the magics of their heritage. However, I can give you a brief run through on some of what I can do while directing you to the Vault's Library. Its not as big or well stocked as the Faranel library, but that's in the Undercity and thus inaccessible for now.'_

_'You had me at library, just tell me where to go.'_

Hermione got a distinct feeling of amusement from NightSong before hearing, _'Behind where I was hanging on the wall there should be a carving of a raven clutching a bow in its talons. Press it and follow the hallway til you come to the fifth door on the right, then all you have to do is follow the pathway from that do and take your first left.'_

Hermione found the carving that the sentient bow had spoken of and pressed it, causing the entire wall to slide up into the ceiling, revealing a hallway. As she began to walk, Hermione asked, _'So, just what can you do anyway?'_

_'Well first off I act as a focus for any and all of the magics you will learn from your heritage, as well as most other spells as well. You'll be able to use me instead of your wand in many instances, most specifically battle. In addition, pulling back on my draw string can cause one of two types of arrows of energy to form, depending on your intent, ice arrows that freeze their targets and necromantic arrows that drain life and can cause a slain foe to rise up as a mindless servant to do battle in your name. Oh yeah, I can also be used to summon any lesser undead that are bonded to me as servants, such as Patchwork. Besides that, you can use me for many rituals that only work with weapons such as me, and you are able to summon me to you from anywhere, owing to the piece of your soul that now rests within me and the piece of my power that resides within you. Impressive, isn't it?'_

Hermione was impressed, if a bit freaked out by some of the abilities, mostly the ability to raise her enemies as mindless undead slaves. She wasn't sure if se would want to go that far, despite NightSong's obvious eagerness to do things like that. Hermione wasn't too surprised by that. The bow was a weapon after all, despite its intelligence. She had resolved to learn the dark arts, but that was a bit much.

All thoughts were pushed out of Hermione's head though, as she turned the last corner and beheld the library. It was huge, at least three times larger than the Hogwarts Library, and every book was sure to be rare and filled with powerful knowledge.

_'Its official, I love my new inheritance.'_

Back with Harry

Harry found himself standing in the middle of a void, floating along totally alone. He was a bit disoriented. 'What the hell happened? The last thing I remember was beginning the bonding with FrostMourne, and then blinding pain, and then passing out. Wait, blinding pain?' "FrostMourne! You never said anything about that much pain!" he shouted into the darkness around him.

"I didn't realize there would be that much." Came the unexpected reply. "Besides, I thought it would be pretty obvious that doing something like bonding your soul to a weapon would involve a certain amount of pain. As it is, the only reason you felt that much pain was because you had some additional outside influences affecting you. I hadn't accounted for them." As the reply finished, the figure of an armored man with snow-white hair and eyes that blazed an icy blue appeared in front of Harry in the abyss.

"Uh, FrostMourne, why are you appearing in that form? And where are we?"

"I'm appearing in this form because it is the one I chose, and we are currently in the area around your magical core. As I said, there were a few things I hadn't accounted for when the bonding began. The bonding cleanses the person bonding with me of any outside magical influences that he did not have put on willingly. I knew about the blocks Dumbledore put on you, but only because it was wrapped around the part of you I can easily sense, the Turned part. However, you also had a few lingering love potions, a loyalty spell that has only recently begun to degrade, and, well, that." He finished, pointing.

Harry turned in the void and was stunned by what he saw. It was a huge ball of light that shined with many different colors, and shone as brightly as the sun. About half of it was blocked off from the rest by a divider that shined red with many cracks running through it and a second layer of canary yellow, with one blue line piercing it all the way through, the half that shined with an icy blue glow mixed with tendrils of shadowy black. The other half was mostly light green and white, but had a spike of canary driven into it that seemed to be breaking down, as well as three smaller spikes of a brownish color. However, what FrostMourne was pointing at was much more noticeable than these. Attached to the ball was what looked like a giant black leech, tinged with dark green, with a black line shooting off into the distance protruding from its back. It seemed to shudder and pulsate, and the area of the ball around which it was attached was slowly becoming the same colors as the leech. It was all in all revolting.

"I'm assuming that the colored spikes and walls are magics, but what is that bug thing?" He asked.

"That, dear wielder, is what appears to be a portion of Voldemort's soul, implanted there when he cast that killing curse on you. It seems to be the source of the link between you, and seems to function by corrupting and siphoning off your magic and feeding it to him, as well as giving you a way into each others heads, though only he has been able to utilize that. Learning Occlumency might have helped, but the torture Snape put you through only really helped to secure the connection and make Voldemort more aware of it."

A portion of Voldemort's god cursed soul. He just had all the bloody luck in the world, having things like that stuck to him. "Sooooo, how do we go about squashing it?"

"Why squash it?"

"Beyond the fact that it's siphoning my magic and is allowing Voldemort to cause me pain?"

"Excuse me, what I meant was, why squash it when we can torture and mutilate it before sending the pain and shock of what we did to it through the link to Voldemort and destroying the link?" Harry looked at FrostMourne strangely for a few moments before shrugging. It's not as if Harry particularly cared how the leech was removed as long as it was. "If you really want to do it that way and can do it quickly, knock yourself out."

The armored form of FrostMourne grinned wickedly before walking over the leech and drawing a replica of the jagged blade. "This might sting a bit at first while I remove it from your core." He said, before stabbing the blade into the bug. Harry immediately felt a wave of pain rush through him, but it was relatively minor, and so Harry watched fascinated as the leech was slowly cut to pieces, drained of energy, frozen, and shattered, before FrostMourne began to drain a black energy from the remains before shooting it at the link. Harry watched with great satisfaction as the remains of the leech disappeared and the link to Voldemort disintegrated behind the wave of pain and suffering that was rushing towards Voldemort. Harry wondered how he would react…

With Voldemort

"Is that ALL, Wormtail?" Voldemort asked angrily. He was getting tired of listening to the rat whine while he gave reports. Having most of his inner circle in Azkaban was really annoying. Suddenly, pain like he had never felt, but had enjoyed dishing out, washed over him. He let out an involuntary gasp and shuddered as the pain ran through him. It seemed to last forever, before it finally stopped, leaving him panting.

"Master, are you… alright? Should I call the medic?" Voldemort just glared at Wormtail who gulped. "No Wormtail, I think that will be all, now leave me."

"Yes Master." Wormtail said, relieved at not getting a dose of cruciatus curse.

" Oh, and Wormtail?"

"Yes master?"

"CRUCIO!"

Back with Harry

Harry seemed to have the inexplicable need to grin all of a sudden, but wrote that off as finally being rid pf that slimy bit of Voldemort's soul. "So, what are we going to do about those other spells?"

"Well as far as the block Dumbledore put on you is concerned you won't be able to do anything about that til around the end of the summer most likely. However, I can get rid of the other spells right now, which will also complete the bonding between us. Should I do that now?" At Harry's nod, FrostMourne walked over to the remaining colored spikes and thrust his blade into each of them in turn, destroying them. With each thrust Harry felt a spike of pain, but each spell destroyed left him feeling lighter and cleaner then he felt before. Once all of the spells were destroyed, Harry felt a rush of power before a flash of light blinded him. When he opened his eyes again, He found himself lying on the floor in the vault right in front of where FrostMourne had hung. FrostMourne itself rest in his right hand, while his left hand was sporting a white scar across his palm.

_'It is done… we are bonded.'_ Came the voice of FrostMourne reverberating through his mind.

_'Well, care to tell me what that means I'll be able to use you for?'_

_'Of course. I can, of course, be used to cut things into tiny bits, but that's just a bit mundane. My main abilities that you will be able to accesses almost immediately are the ability to shoot bolts of frost and necromantic energy from the tip of my blade, as well as cast Wizarding spells through me. Also, there is a whole school of Arcane magic that the wizards of this world have yet to discover but which the Forsaken brought to this world from Azeroth. I work as an Arcane focus for those as well. Last but not least, I can be used to break enchantments that may be affecting you, and I can be used to summon lesser undead that are bound to me ritually, such as Patchwork, who is guarding the vault and I can never be separated from you unless you wish it.'_

_'All of which sounds very useful. Now, where should we go next? I'd imagine Hermione is waiting for us somewhere.'_

_'Yes, she's in the vaults library. NightSong just told me.'_

_'Figures. How do I get there?'_

_'Behind where I was hanging there should be a carving of a frozen hammer. Press that, and the wall will slide up t reveal a corridor. Just go down the Corridor to your first left and then take a right after that. That should take you to the library… if I remember right. I've never been down there much. Most of my wielders weren't all that big into the whole research every book, read every page idea. They were well read, but mostly on their own interests, in the library in Icecrown. Oh, and by the way, you might want to grab that sheath on the right side of the wall first and strap it on. After all, I imagine you don't want to be carrying me all the time.'_

_'Good point.'_

Harry turned and found the sheath right where FrostMourne had said it was. It was pitch black, with skulls going up and down it. It had a strap on it that appeared to be designed for waist or back. Harry chose to strap it over his shoulder, and sheathed FrostMourne in it, leaving its hilt sticking out over his right shoulder. Then he found the carving on the wall that the sentient blade had mentioned, and pressed it.

The wall slid up, revealing a hallway just as FrostMourne had said, made up of green stone lined with torches glowing with an icy blue light. Following the path, Harry quickly made the first turn, before a question occurred to Harry. He asked it as he kept on moving. _'FrostMourne, just how big are these vaults anyway?'_

_'Pretty damn big. It's pretty much the equivalent of a fortress, with living quarters and all. It cost a lot of money to get the goblins to agree to let this be built here with an entrance through the vaults. As it was we had to sign binding contracts to not try and steal anything from other vaults, as well as teach the goblins how to enchant a weapon to channel necromantic energy, a skill that we had brought from Azeroth. I believe they lost the art a while back, and the only remaining weapon with that enchantment is being used by Ragnok the goblin king. There are several bedrooms, multiple magical laboratories, an eating hall connected to an auto-restocking kitchen, the library, several training rooms for different types of learning, a "kennel" for any creatures you may have, and a few other things that slip my mind. Its been a while since I had a wielder.'_

_'Me and Hermione have a lot of ground to cover then.'_

Eventually Harry got to the first pair of doors in the second hallway. Taking FrostMourne's instruction, Harry turned to the door on the right, opened it and walked through it. The room he walked into was pitch black, and was clearly not a library.

_'It's the other door, isn't it?'_

_'Yes, I suppose it is. I did say that my memory was a bit foggy about finding this place.'_

Harry sighed and turned around, and took a step toward the door. Unfortunately, the stone where he stepped sunk into the ground. Causing the door to slam shut in front of Harry. He tried in vain to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly a torch lit up the room with the same icy blue flames as outside, then another, then another. Soon the entire room was illuminated. This brought Harry a bit of relief, but only until he turned from the door.

"**WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLEEP!?!?!" **

To be continued…

**A/N: **Whew, that was a haul. I hope it satisfied those of you who were looking for some background on where the crossover is coming from, as well as those of you looking for some story development. Of course I'm sure you all hate me for the cliffy, but think of it this way. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update and you get to see what happens next. Aren't I a manipulative bastard?

"Patchwork like reviews. They make Patchwork happy. GIVE PATCHWORK REVIEWS!!!!"

Korrag


	5. Saphiron and Gaining Power

**A/N: **Well, im rather happy with the response Chapter 4 has gotten. All of those reviews make me very happy. Im very glad that you guys liked the way I explained the Forsaken's history. If you guys are interested in Warcraft now that I've shown it too you, look up World of Warcraft for all the info you need on cannon… great site. Also, if you guys want to se what FrostMourne as well as its first wielder look like, go to www(dot)WorldofWarcraft(dot)com(slash)wrath. It's very easy to see). Oh and for any of you guys that didn't like the bonding scene, ill likely be rewriting it at some point, but for now, ON WITH THE SHOW!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or Warcraft, I do have a lv 67 Undead Warlock on Medivh though.

"talking"

'thinking'

_**SS**_Parceltongue_**SS**_

'_mindspeak'

* * *

_

Chapter 5: Saphiron and Gaining Power.

Harry sighed and turned around, and took a step toward the door. Unfortunately, the stone where he stepped sunk into the ground. Causing the door to slam shut in front of Harry. He tried in vain to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly a torch lit up the room with the same icy blue flames as outside, then another, then another. Soon the entire room was illuminated. This brought Harry a bit of relief, but only until he turned from the door.

"**WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLEEP!?!?!"

* * *

**

Hermione was enjoying herself. With the help of NightSong, she quickly found the library's index, which could be used to find any book in the library with ease. Simply saying a topic would list all of the books in the library on that topic, with the top of the list being the highest recommended by her predecessors, and touching the name of the book would bring it flying towards her waiting hands. She had gone through multiple books already and was utterly fascinated by some of what she found. She was currently reading a book on the arcane arts of Azeroth; one brought over from that world by the original Forsaken, and was entranced by some of what she had read. The Wizards of Azeroth were commonly broken up into three different types, each with sub-types, the Mage, Warlock, and Necromancer. These spellcasters apparently collected ambient energy from the world around them to power their spells, using different energies for different spells. It sounded like a very interesting alternative to the way wizards cast spells, and she really liked the idea of learning it. She was about to turn another page in the thick tome when a roar of anger shook the room.

'_Um, NightSong, what was that?'_

'_Well, it came from nearby, and there is a kennel across the hall from the library, which holds one of larger of the beasts in the vault. But, it only wakes up if someone… oh dear. __FrostMourne seems to have given Harry the wrong directions and it appears that they have woken old Saphiron. You should probably get up and let them out of there. As in now. Before they get turned into frozen pieces of flesh and metal.'_

'_Right, door across the hall, open it, got it.' _Hermione said as she bolted up off of the chair she had been sitting in and began racing to the entrance of the library racing between shelves in an effort to reach Harry before Saphiron killed him. Speaking of which…

'_Um, NightSong, just _what_ is Saphiron to make such a large roar?'

* * *

_

_With Harry_

'_Um, FrostMourne, what's that?'_

'_Saphiron.'_

'_What's it doing?'_

'_It looks like it's getting ready to kill you.'_

'_Oh. Shit.'_

'_Indeed.'_

Rearing up in front of Harry was the largest being he had ever seen. It was the skeleton of a dragon, one that dwarfed the Hungarian Horntail he had fought in his fourth year, and it was swirling around rapidly as if caught up in a whirlwind, all except for the head, which was floating above Harry, regarding him with eye sockets glowing with a chilling blue light.

"**What's this? A meal wanders into my lair? And of its own volition as well? I shall feast upon your bones fool, and offer your remains to my master!"**

With this pronouncement, the swirling bones of the beast stopped their spinning and formed the rest of the great dragon. It was easily twice the size of the Hungarian Horntail, made up entirely of white bleached bone, and filled with billowing frost blue vapor. As it finished forming, it let out another roar, before beginning to draw in a deep breath.

'_Move you idiot!'_

Harry didn't need anymore of FrostMourne's prompting, sprinting away from the spot where he was standing off to the side, just narrowly evading the billowing cloud of freezing cold air that Saphiron released from its gaping maw. When the vapor from the attack cleared it revealed the area where Harry had been standing just moments before, with a huge ice block in his place. The dragon skeleton's head turned toward where Harry was now standing and proclaimed, "**Run as much as you like, little morsel. You can't escape my breath forever!"**

Harry drew his wand and snapped out "_Reducto!"_ However, when the curse reached the dragon's skull, it simply bounced off, hitting the wall across from it.

"**You'll have to do better than that to hurt me, puny wizard! Nothing you can do can harm me!"**

'_It's right! What the hell am I supposed to do? I don't know any spells that can do a thing to this monster!'_

'Then use me! Draw me and hold me in front of you in a guard position. I can hold off his breath for a little while.'

Not having any better ideas, Harry drew FrostMourne from its sheath on his back. For a moment he was going to berate the sword for telling him to assume a guard position when he knew nothing about swordplay, but then he abruptly realized that he _did_ know some. Shifting his feet into a stance, he moved the great sword into a guard position, and it began to glow with icy blue energy.

Saphiron gave a moment's pause at the sight of the blade, before roaring.

"**IMPOSTER! Did you really think you could fool me with that fake! How dare you try to imitate the weapon of my master of Menethil! I will kill you for your insolence!" **

'Oh brother, it thinks I'm not the real thing. I can't believe I forgot it was in here! What was Duran thinking keeping this damned thing across from the library!'

'_Less talking, more shielding!'_

Harry's words turned out to be the right thing to say, as Saphiron began to fire off orbs of ice at him. Luckily, as each one neared where he was standing it impacted on a shield of blue energy emanating from the blade of FrostMourne, shattering harmlessly.

"**So you have some power after all! Good! I enjoy a challenge! Now, puny wizard lets see how you like the ultimate attack of the greatest of the Frost Wyrms!" **

The undead dragon suddenly jumped into the air and began beating its wings, hovering high above the ground at the vault ceiling despite the lack of wing membrane. Roaring and facing down towards the center of the ground, it began to take a deep breath, and a huge ball of blue energy began to form in its maw.

'Damn! Quickly, run and get behind that ice block he made before with his breath.'

Harry didn't need to be told twice and ran towards the ice block, reaching it at the last moment. As soon as he ducked behind it, Saphiron gave an earth-shattering roar and released the built up ball of energy, which had become bigger than Harry. It raced towards the ground before impacting and sending a wave of frost energy racing outwards in all directions. Even in cover as he was, Harry could feel the raw power of the wave of icy death the attack had unleashed. Everywhere the attack had affected was covered in ice.

"**That's right mortal! Tremble! Tremble and despair, and know that you will die alone in my lair!"**

'_Any ideas?'_

'_I'm fresh out.'_

_So im going to die?'_

'_Yes, that seems very likely.'_

'_Bloody hell.'_

'_Indeed.'_

Harry could hear the stomping footsteps of the approaching Frost Wyrm as it made its way over to his hiding spot. With a mighty swipe of its claws, the ice block Harry had been hiding behind was no more. Harry scrambled back, FrostMourne still in hand, until he hit the wall. Looking helplessly at the undead Wyrm as it raised its clawed hand, Harry braced himself for the inevitable.

"**Die, Mortal."**

Harry stood waiting for the blow to come, for his life to end, but it never fell. Suddenly a pain filled roar filled the room. "Get your ass over here Harry!"

Harry's eyes snapped open, and he was astounded at what he saw. Saphiron was rearing up just in front of him, roaring in pain as bolt after bolt of red energy struck it in the head and exploded, amid cries of "_Reducto!"_ Following the path of the bolts of energy over to the door, Harry saw Hermione, standing in the doorway, NightSong held in her hands. She drew back the drawstring, and yelled _"Reducto!" _before releasing another bolt of energy. "What are you waiting for!" she yelled in between shots. "I can't keep this up forever!"

Snapping out of his daze, Harry ran as fast as he could towards the door and Hermione. As he neared the door he heard Saphiron give an angry roar.

"**FOOL! THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM ME!" **

The stomping of his rush reverberated through the room as it rushed to catch Harry. He got through the door, Hermione backing through just after him still firing, and slammed the door shut behind them. He heard a series of clicks as it locked, followed by a large crash from the other side as Saphiron ran into the door. He winced as the beast let out a roar of frustration, then he turned to Hermione, who was leaning against the wall next to the door panting.

"Thanks Hermione. I would've been dead if you hadn't gotten there when you did."

"No, No problem." She replied in between pants.

"What were you doing to make your spells affect it anyway? I tried casting at it but the spells just glanced off."

Hermione, despite being tired out from what she had just been doing, got that glint in her eye that meant she was going to go into lecture mode. Harry, seeing this, headed her off before she could begin, gently placing a hand over her mouth as she opened it and saying, "The short version please."

Hermione mock glared at him for a moment before nodding. "Both of our weapons can be used to amplify an spells we cast through them by collecting ambient magical energy from the air around us. However, NightSong is easier to do that with. I just focused my spells through NightSong, who amplified both range and power. It takes a bit more out of me at this point though."

Harry nodded. It made sense, and he thought he remembered FrostMourne mentioning something like that. "Well, I suppose that this means we both decided to embrace our heritage." Harry said, giving a weak grin, which Hermione returned. At this point they were both more than a little intimidated by that heritage, which seemed to include a lot of large scary surprises.

'_Yes, you both have. Which means that now that you are together, we can head towards one of the training rooms and you can both begin to learn some _real_ magic.' _The sarcastic voice of FrostMourne interjected.

'_Yeah, yeah, you mentioned that, now shut up and let me talk a bit. _I _am the wielder remember, and as such, _I_ am the one calling the shots.'_

FrostMourne may have been going to reply, but Hermione interrupted their little conversation by grabbing Harry by the arm and beginning to drag him along the corridor saying, "Come on Harry, lets try out one of the training rooms. I read up a bit on Azerothian magic and it sounds perfectly fascinating!"

'_Shut up' _Harry said in reply to FrostMourne's mental laughter.

Hermione, most likely following the mental directions of NightSong which were more doubt more accurate than FrostMourne's, led Harry at a brisk pace through a veritable maze of hallways and stairs that seemed even more confusing than Hogwarts could be. It wasn't long before they reached a large iron door with a strange glyph on it. Hermione touched the Glyph and the door opened soundlessly. "It marks the room as one for training in Azerothian magic." She explained as they walked in.

The room they entered was huge, easily as big as Saphiron's chamber, which was meant to hold a dragon-sized creature. Along the sides to the left and right were targets and staves and circles of many forms of arcane runes that gave off visible power in the form of light. One could almost smell the magic that was present in this room. At the far end of the room were three platforms, one made of moonstone, one made of obsidian, and one made of ivory, each with a different glowing glyph on it.

Hermione, who had released Harry's hand when she realized he was going to follow her of his own volition, made a beeline for the three raised platforms, with Harry following close behind. When they reached the platforms, they found too stands, one made for a sword, the other made for a bow. Harry looked at Hermione.

"I guess we put the weapons on the stands." He said, and he did just that. Upon putting FrostMourne and its sheath onto the stand it began to glow with a blue light. Hermione followed suit with NightSong, causing the bow stand to give off a green glow, and the platforms to start glowing with light corresponding to their building materials. A voice resounded throughout the room, deep and powerful.

"**Choose.**"

"Choose? Choose what?" Harry asked aloud.

"I read about this." Hermione unsurprisingly said. "One of the books I found in the library mentioned that when an initiate is going to start learning magic, he or she chooses one of three different schools to learn from; Mages, Warlocks, and Necromancers. It looks like we're being presented with that choice now."

"Any clue on the differences between the three?"

"From what I could find, Mages focus on manipulation of fire and frost as well as pure arcane energy, Warlocks use the energies of the void and the twisting nether as well as summoning and subjecting demons and the like to their will, and Necromancers draw on the power of the dead, summoning mindless undead and draining life from their foes."

"And each of us can only choose one?"

"Yes, that's what the books said, only one, at least at first."

Harry was repulsed by the idea of Warlocks trafficking with demons, but was intrigued by Mages and Necromancers. The power of the elements was obvious to anyone who had ever seen a hurricane or wildfire or blizzard, and while he didn't now what uses arcane energy could be put too, he was sure they were interesting. On the other hand, the idea of being able to communicate with the dead held a certain appeal, as he really was interested in being able to perhaps hear his parents' or Sirius' voice. On top of that, he had experienced first hand the power of the undead in the forms of Patchwork and Saphiron.

Hermione on the other hand, wasn't interested in being a Mage. It seemed to her to be little more than hitting your enemies with a magical stick, albeit a big magical stick. The powers of the Warlock and Necromancer caught her eyes however. Warlocks harnessed energies from beyond the known world, a power that was hardly understood and that Hermione was quite interested in. In addition, while she didn't like demons, no doubt they had forgotten more knowledge then other sentients had yet to learn, and that was quite a pool of knowledge. Necromancers on the other hand, could learn the secrets of the dead and, like Harry; she was becoming intrigued by the undead, owing to the fact that she had learned that her very heritage was thus.

They stood there for a while, each having their own internal debates. Their weapons didn't interject their own opinions. It was understood that this was a choice that each of them had to come to on their own, with no one else interfering. Eventually, almost at the same time, they reached their decisions. They both studied the three platforms, or more specifically the glyphs, and, accessing knowledge they had gained from bonding with their weapons, figured out which was which. Finally, Harry's hand ended up on the glyph on the moonstone, at the same time that Hermione's found its way to the obsidian.

When Harry and Hermione touched the platforms, two things happened. The first was that the platforms they touched began to glow even brighter, while the third dimmed. The second was the appearance of a pair of ghostly figures, one on each touched platform. On the moonstone platform was a woman with long hair dressed in fine robes, a sapphire topped staff in her hands. On the obsidian platform stood a man dressed in robes of a different style, covered with dark runes, a staff leaking shadows clutched in his hands. The two new figures regarded the two in front of them, and the man began to speak.

"Greetings heirs. I am Sadrin Darkwhisper, and this is my cousin, Kittitrina Frostfire. We are the imprints of the memories of two masters of our crafts of Warlock Felmagic as well as Magecraft and we will be your masters as you learn these arts."

"You, Harry have decided to learn the arts of Magecraft, as such, I will be instructing you in its three forms, until you decide which suits you most, at which point I will aid you in attaining true mastery of the form you choose." Said the female, Kittitrina.

"And you Hermione, have chosen to delve into the mysteries of the void. Like Magecraft, our magic has three major forms, but our magic is considerably more dangerous to learn. However, of the three forms of magic, Felmagic is often regarded as the most powerful, not because of raw strength, but because it can turn enemies against each other, manipulate them to their own demise, and call upon long forgotten forces of the old world." Sadrin picked up.

"Each form of magic has its own part of the training area. This particular room caters to all three magics at the beginner level, while the higher tiers of each form each have their own individual rooms. If you, Hermione will meet Sadrin by the circles of purplish runes, he will instruct you there. Harry, please go over to the targets on the other side of the room."

Harry and Hermione were each mildly surprised, both with the others choice and the way the training was going to work. These trainers seemed to be a more advanced form of the Wizarding portraits they had seen before, something quite impressive. Giving each other a nod, Harry and Hermione strode to opposite sides of the room.

* * *

_Harry's Side_

As Harry reached the area where his training in Magecraft was to begin, he picked up on more details than he had from a distance. In addition to the targets, which were a lot bigger up close, there was a block of ice, a bonfire that must have been enchanted to never go out, and a glowing ball similar to that produced by _lumos_ but totally independent of any obvious source. Capping off the area's features was a circle of moonstone set in the center of the area and a few cushions that looked like they were meant to be sat in. Harry moved over to the moonstone as the ghostly form of Kittitrina faded into view over it.

"You have chosen to learn the ways of Magecraft, once the most common of the three schools of magic. Once you have begun to learn to utilize the lessons I will teach you, the power of the elements and magic itself will be yours to use as you choose. But first, I must ask you, why did you choose to learn Magecraft over the other two schools?"

Harry thought about it for a moment to compose his answer before saying "I needed to learn something that would give me powerful battle-magic, powerful enough to destroy the madman who is currently out to kill me. I didn't want to have a relationship with demons and Necromancers sounded like they focused on creating the dead and other more subtle ways of defending oneself. Subtle just doesn't work for me."

The specter like woman nodded in understanding. "Sounds to me like your looking for the magic that will do the most damage the fastest, am I right?" At Harry's nod she continued. "In that case, I think it would be best for you to try the fire spells first. I myself prefer frost, but fire is the more damaging of the two. The first step is too open your senses to the world around you, specifically the bonfire you see over there. You need to get a feel for just what you're trying to command before you can command it. When you can feel the energy being given off by the flames, I want you to say something, ok?"

Harry nodded and walked over to the bonfire. Up close to it, he could feel the heat it was giving off and began to sweat. Taking a breath, he began to bring his full focus on the fire, how it flickered and danced, the heat it was giving off, the smell of the burning wood as it was burned but never consumed. He didn't feel anything at first and was beginning to get frustrated when suddenly he could feel it. It was so obviously there that he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it when he saw fire before. The energy he was feeling was wild and untamed, lashing out at everything around it, _burning_.

"I can feel the fire's energy. What next?"

"You must try and shape it into a ball, controlling it and molding it in yours hands. After you have accomplished that, try willing it to hit one of the targets in the range."

Harry nodded and reached out, more with his will and intent than with his hands, trying to get a handle on the energy coming off of the flames. It fought back against his will, trying to resist his instruction. In response Harry put more effort into subduing it, determined to accomplish his goal. Slowly but surely he could feel the energy give way to his command, collecting in his now outstretched hands into the form of a ball. Eventually it reached the size of a volleyball, and Harry willed the orb of burning energy to strike the target nearest to him. He watched as the orb sped towards the target before impacting it, leaving a scorch mark in the center of the target. Harry was a bit disappointed at the lack-luster result, and turned to find Kittitrina looking at him with visible surprise on her face.

"What?" he asked, unsure of why she was surprised.

"You happen to be the first person I've every seen get results that fast. I was expecting you to get the first part down, but the only pupil I've trained who got even close to doing the rest on his first try took seven tries and he ended up becoming an Archmage of Scholomance, the most highly regarded magical school among the Forsaken, at the age of twenty, nearly forty years younger than most."

Harry just began to shake his head. He just could never be normal, could he?

* * *

_Hermione's Side_

Hermione's training area was considerably darker than Harry's with several circles of runes glowing with dark power and a rack of ceremonial blades. There was an obsidian circle set in the floor in the center of the ring of rune circles, as well as several diagrams depicting various demonic looking creatures. As Hermione approached the center of the training area the ghostly form of Sadrin rose up out of the obsidian.

"I can tell by the look on your face young one, you seek knowledge, crave it. You're the Faranel heir, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Just as I thought. I've seen that look before, on the face of one Darius Faranel. He was the Master Apothecary under the Dark Lady Sylvanus herself. He was also one of the most brilliant and mad individuals I ever have known. He was directly responsible for much of Alchemical Science today, in fact I believe the man Nicholas Flamel built off of his work when he discovered the Philosophers stone. One of the better things my people did for this world when we came here was definitely to discreetly spread around some of our more useful but mundane knowledge around. Really, this world was so barbaric when we arrived. But all of that is off topic. I apologize; I do have a tendency to go off on tangents.

You have decided to learn the mysteries of the way of the Warlock. Ours is the most dangerous to learn of the three schools of magic, but it is arguably the most rewarding. Like the other forms of magic, ours is divided into three major forms; Affliction magic, Destruction magic, and Demonology. The first form focus' on affecting the opponents ability to fight, whether it be by exhausting them, causing them great amounts of pain, making them more vulnerable to magic, or any other number of things. Destruction magic is just that; magic meant to destroy things. Destruction Warlocks focus on the most battle oriented of our magics, and can often put a mage to shame as far as pure destructive power goes, though I'll admit to being a bit biased. The final form, Demonology, focus' on the summoning and subjecting to ones will of demons and the different magics that Warlocks can learn to strengthen themselves magically and physically. Now, I ask, what do you want to gain from becoming a Warlock?"

"Well, I'll admit, I find everything you mentioned interesting, but what I found most interesting about the warlock was the fact that it manipulated the energies of the void and nether, something no one else does. I want to learn how to use that energy, so that maybe I can find out new things to do with it. Plus, I can't even begin to guess at how much knowledge demons must have, and the chance to get them to tell me some of it, willingly or otherwise, appeals to me."

Hermione thought she heard the ghostly image mutter "Definitely a Faranel" under his breath before replying. "Well, it's been a while since I've had such a determined pupil. From the sounds of it, I think that Demonology would be a good place to start training you. You said you wanted to learn to manipulate the energies of the nether and void, yes?" Hermione nodded. "Then I will teach you one of the easiest techniques that all Warlocks are taught; how to shape a form of armor out of the energies of the nether and its denizens. To begin, I'd like you to step into one of the rune circles. Any of them is fine."

Hermione did so, and as soon as she stepped into the middle of the circle closest to her she could feel a difference. The world outside of the circle seemed farther away, like it was removed from the inside where she was standing. In addition, the inside of the circle seemed to be infinitely bigger then it was, like there was a whole other world within its confines.

"You can feel it, can't you." Came the voice of Sadrin, startling her out of her thoughts. "The space inside the circle is much closer to the Twisted Nether then the outside. It is used mostly to summon demons, but it is also used to help new initiates learn how to draw on the nether and void. I want you to feel the energy swirling around you. Its always there, but its much more noticeable in the circle. Then I want you to draw it towards you, covering yourself in it. Let it shape itself around you til it is in place to guard you from all harm. Just one thing; make sure you always maintain control. The power of the nether is one of the most seductive things you will ever encounter, more addicting than any drug. It will control you if you let it, destroying everything you are."

Hermione began to concentrate and immediately felt the energy flowing around her. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, sweet, powerful, alluring. It called to her, begging her to use it, to allow herself to fall into its sweet embrace and drift into never ending bliss. It would be so easy to just let it all go. 'I can't let go, I won't let go!' With an act of extreme will she blocked out the call from her mind, and began to draw the energy around herself. It took all of her concentration to block out the call _and _control the energy at once, but eventually, after what seemed like hours, she managed to complete the armor around herself. Thrusting her hands above her, she released the excess energy she had drawn back into the nether, causing it to form a flaming symbol of a purple shield as it departed.

She let out a deep breath and looked at Sadrin with a new found respect. Truly the man must have had supreme force of will to master that energy without falling prey to its wiles. She found that look of respect mirrored in his eyes.

"Impressive." He commented. "Most of the initiates I've trained either took twice that long to finish the armor or were taken by the nether's power and had to have it forcibly removed. Well done, you seem to be a natural at controlling the energies of the nether and the void. You'll be a powerful one if you keep up like that."

Hermione allowed herself a grin. She felt exhilarated. Such power, such awesome power, and now she was going to learn how to use it. Not only that, she was a natural. She took a step out of the circle and turned to her new master her eyes glowing with anticipation.

"What's next?"

* * *

**A/N:** well this chapter definitely takes the cake as the one that's been most fun to write so far. Some of it was a bit awkward, but well that happens. How did you guys like Saphiron? Nothing like a bit of a boss fight to spice up the beginning of a chapter! Also im quite interested to know what you guys thought of how I did the training. Also, I am looking for a beta, so if your interested PM me and I'd be happy to beta your stuff in return. Next Chapter you can look forward to finding out what some of the other players are doing (Besides Voldemort crucioing poor Wormtail…oh who am I kidding I hate Wormtail! GO VOLDEMORT GO!) Also, there might be a small time skip through some of the training I haven't decided yet. Til then, like it? Hate it? Either way, review it!

"**FOOLISH MORTALS! I SAPHIRON, KING OF FROSTWYRMS DEMAND THAT YOU REVIEW THIS, MY DEBUT CHAPTER! DO IT OR FEEL MY ICY WRATH!**"

(Damn, someone has issues, doesn't he?)

Korrag


	6. A week has passed, People have noticed

**A/N: **Hey guys im back! Im sure you all missed me, but never fear, I have returned! Not that I really went anywhere… Anyway, I have very busy the past few days putting a few things in my life back together, so im sorry that this one took a bit longer than in the past. However, I think you will find it advances the story a good deal more. Also, to those of you who are worried im making Hermione Uber and Harry a Noob, don't fear. I'll admit to being a bit prejudiced towards warlocks, but then Sadrin is _my_ WoW Character (Kittitrina is my sister's.) Regardless, you should see proof that they are not becoming unbalanced at all this chapter. One last thing; I noticed I never really gave you any dates so here they are: Harry and Hermione went to their vaults on June 25 (which would be about a week into the summer round where I live.) Due to a time skip, it is now July 2. And now, Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or Warcraft, I do have a lv 68 Undead Warlock on Medivh though.

"talking"

'thinking'

_**SS**_Parceltongue_**SS**_

'_mindspeak'

* * *

_

Chapter 6: A week has passed, People have noticed

Harry ducked and felt the sword slice through the space his neck had occupied only a second earlier. Quickly drawing the energy of fire to his hands he unleashed a firebolt before flicking his wand and exclaiming _amplio! _The firebolt that he had thrown grew to double its previous size and sped up before hitting the training skeleton and exploding.

As the skeleton began to fall apart, the magic binding its bones together unraveling under the intense assault, Harry sighed and wiped sweat from his forehead. If someone had told him a week ago that he would be spending hours on end training in forgotten arts in a fortress disguised as a vault, he would have said they were crazy. Yet here he was, doing just that, only having left once to collect the remainder of his belongings from Privet Drive, and having moved into the fortress, which proved to have the amenities of a well furnished home once you got past the entry labyrinth.

The last week had been a whirlwind for him and Hermione, who spent most of the day in the vault but still spent her nights at home. Since they had begun training in the vaults they had both found themselves fascinated by all there was to accomplish. From training in their chosen Azerothian magics to learning how to wield their newly acquired weapons effectively to learning wand magics that hadn't been seen since the time of Merlin, they always had something to do. It was a welcome change from the monotony of staring at the stark white ceiling of his room hour after hour.

'_Well-done, wielder. For an amateur at least.' _Came the mocking mental voice of FrostMourne. Ever since Harry had begun learning he had been constantly egged on by the sword, who seemed to take a perverse sense of pleasure in taunting Harry about everything. As it was, Harry was making truly excellent progress. Since he had learned to use Azerothian magics in conjunction with his wand magic, Kittitrina had unlocked the combat training part of the complex. Inside the room he was in now was a powerful spell that could reproduce nearly any type of terrain and conjure enemies on a scale of power from the lowly level one to the mighty level seventy. When Harry had enquired why they decided to make such a huge scale of power, rather than a scale like one to ten, Kittitrina answered

"Azerothian magic requires that many levels. There's always something new to learn all the way up the chain, whether it's really new or just a more powerful version of an old spell. However, I fully expect you to surpass level fifteen within the week. I'll be disappointed if you don't" Harry's first foray into the chamber had proved what she was talking about.

_Flashback, five days previous_

When Harry had first entered the chamber he found the landscape set to a desolate forest, dark and foreboding and filled with death. _'A reproduction of the Tirisfal Glades, original homeland of the Forsaken'_ FrostMourne had commented. When he reached the center of the room a voice had sounded, "You are currently unranked. Would you like to proceed to level one?" Harry had voiced his agreement causing the voice to speak again

"Level one commencing in five… four… three… two… one… level one, start!"

Immediately in front of Harry appeared a rotting corpse appeared from a flash of blue light. Its jaw was ripped askew and its bones were clearly visible amid rotting flesh. It moaned once, regarding Harry with unintelligent eyes filled with hunger and began to shamble toward him.

The appearance of the zombie had surprised Harry, who hadn't really been expecting to fight a rotting piece of flesh. He snapped out of the stupor he had gone into and reached for FrostMourne's hilt, but found his hand repulsed by an unseen force before it could close around it.

'_You are here to learn how to use your two types of magics effectively in combat, not how to use me!' _the blade said scathingly_ 'Besides which I _refuse_ to be used against such a pitiful enemy as something that rates a level one!'_

Harry grimaced at the blade's refusal to be used but didn't have time to reprimand it because the zombie had reached him and taking a swing at his head. Harry reflexively began to duck and raise his right arm to block the hit at the same time, resulting in the zombies arm slamming into Harry's. He grunted in pain, before hopping backwards away from the zombie and rolling so that he had some space between them.

Coming out of the roll, Harry drew his wand into his left hand and began to concentrate fire energy into his right. As the fire energy built up and the zombie got closer he began to fire stunners at the undead, slowing it down with each hit but otherwise not affecting it. It gave him enough time though. Finished collecting energy, Harry thrust his right hand forward, ignoring the throb of pain that came from where he had been hit, and watched as a ball of fire the size of his head streaked towards the zombie. When it impacted, the creature combusted before falling to the ground, burning to a crisp.

"Level one, clear. Do you wish to proceed to level two this time?" Came the voice of the room. Harry was unsure if he really wanted to at that point. He hadn't really expected the system to be so real, and he didn't really want to face something worse than the zombie at that moment.

'_Oh, are you scared? A coward? Who would have thought it? The Boy-who-lived is the Boy-who-fled.' _Came FrostMourne's taunting voice, it having overheard Harry's doubts.

Harry's countenance became stony at the taunt. Standing up straight and pointing his wand at his arm, he whispered a minor healing charm. "Bring on level two." He said defiantly.

_End flashback_.

Harry had just finished level fifteen by destroying that skeleton, proving that his instructor's faith in his rate of improvement was not misplaced. He felt a great sense of accomplishment from having done so, despite his swords disdain. But the feeling of victory and accomplishment soon gave way to a hunger. He wanted to, no needed to learn and gain more of the Arcane Azerothian magic. 'This power is my birthright, and I want more of it!' he thought to himself.

So caught up in his thoughts as he started back towards the mage training area was he, he didn't notice the intense feeling of satisfaction coming from the sentient blade on his back.

* * *

_With Hermione_

Hermione stood in the middle of a circle of Warlock runes that were glowing purple with energy. Across from her was a similarly glowing circle of runes, and too the side of the runes was the obsidian circle upon which the image of Sadrin stood. Turning his gaze upon her, the specter like figure began to speak.

"Over the past week you have progressed at a substantial rate for a Warlock, particularly one that didn't have any knowledge of the art before coming to me. However, while you may have made progress in some ways, you have yet to truly embrace our arts as a full Warlock. That is why you are here now. You are here to learn how to summon a lesser demon, an imp to be exact."

Hermione couldn't help but think of the way things had been going the past week. She had been disappointed to find that despite her immediate success with conjuring demon armor, as she had been told that spell was called, she couldn't keep up that pace. She learned the spells, reveling in the rush of power that each one brought, but despite this she found herself unable to push herself as fast as Harry was. She had gotten access to the training room a day after Harry and had only managed to pass through the first ten levels since then. She knew that Harry was approaching his fifteenth level.

However, she didn't let that stop her, couldn't let it. Not when her powers were growing daily, not when she could feel the rush flowing through her. She had found herself in the vaults library many a day, delving into many texts recommended by Sadrin as well as others that just caught her eye. Her grasp of darker magic was beginning to grow along side her Azerothian Felmagic. She had found to her interest, that for just about every light spell there was a dark equivalent. The main differences were that the dark versions were more powerful and efficient. That and the fact that dark magic gave the caster a rush similar to the rush she got from Felmagic.

"The first thing you must remember about summoning demons of any kind is that your control of the demon is dependent upon your will. If your will ever wavers, the demon will break free of your control. That being said, after your first time summoning a particular demon maintaining that level of control becomes second nature. The second thing to remember while summoning demons is that they are never, ever, truly on your side. These beings are as evil as it gets, and must be subjugated to do your will. Those things being said, all it takes to summon an imp is gathering nether energy and charging the runes around you. Once you've done it using a pre-made circle ill teach you how to make your own. Once the thing is summoned, make sure you command it with a firm hand. Give it no leeway at all.

One more thing. When you have it controlled, it will ask for the name of the one who it is to serve. Make sure you do not give it your full name! Such things hold power among demons. Only use one of your surnames while dealing with it."

Hermione nodded her understanding before taking a breath in preparation. Slowly at first, but then at an accelerated rate, she began to draw the nether energy to her. As always, she felt the rush that channeling the energy brought, the feeling of bliss and power threatening to sweep away all that she was and leave nothing more than a demon in human form. Controlling the energy but enjoying the sensation, she began to channel the energy through her into the runes surrounding her. As she did the runes began to glow brighter and brighter. Once they hit a certain point, the refined energy began to shoot out as beams of dark light from four points on the circle.

As these beams of light shot out they converged above Hermione's head, forming a runed ball of the energy. It pulsed and glowed, releasing a shower of excess energy that sprinkled down onto Hermione, increasing the rush of the spellwork. Her eyes began to glow purple with the dark energy of the spellwork, and her hands rose above her head, feeding more energy into the ball of power above her. Finally the energy reached critical mass and in a exploded in a flash of energy. As the light dimmed, Hermione looked towards the circle where the summoned demon would appear, and found that her summoning had succeeded.

The creature in the summoning circle was short and gray. It had gangly arms and legs, large ears, one of which was pierced with a golden hoop earring, and razor sharp teeth. It eyes were burning with a malevolent green glow and a green fel fire danced around its feet.

The imp, as Hermione recognized it from the book she had read prior to coming to the chamber, cast its head around in confusion for a few moments, disoriented from the sudden summoning. When its eyes found Hermione it let out a snarling growl that in truth was a bit high-pitched to sound truly threatening, before hurling itself at the edges of the summoning circle containing it. Immediately upon the imp hitting the bounds of the circle a purple wall of energy arose from the runes and Hermione began to feel a mental pressure pushing against her. She threw all she had into pushing back harder than she was being pushed at as soon ass she felt the attack. As she applied her willpower the circle of power around the imp began to glow brighter, and chains of energy began to encircle the imp. As the chains began to constrict around the small demon it began to struggle furiously, attempting to send more mental pressure at Hermione, but its efforts were in vain, as Hermione compensated easily.

Soon the chains had completely encircled the demon, and dragged its struggling form back to the center of the circle. The demon continued struggling the whole way, but now it spoke to Hermione in a cackling high voice.

"Why have you summoned Jakmat?" It demanded. "Why you summon Jakmat away from his dinner!?"

"I have summoned you, creature, to serve me as a familiar." Hermione answered in a clear, calm, and most of all commanding voice.

"Huh, you Warlock. You want Jakmat to serve you. What you use to bargain with, Warlock?"

"There will be_ no_ bargaining, demon! You will serve me as I command and take pleasure in what I tell you to do or I will banish you to the deepest pits of the nether, into a pit lord's meal!"

The demon bared its teeth at Hermione, snarling wordlessly and continuing to struggle for a few more moments before relenting. "Jakmat will serve Warlock. What is name of Jakmat's new master?"

Hermione was about to respond fully, but then caught herself, remembering what Sadrin had said about full true names. "Your new master is Hermione…. Lady Hermione Faranel." She said, choosing the Faranel name because she didn't want the Granger name associated with demons and the Windrunner name didn't really seem to go with this aspect of her new power. As she watched, the imp stopped struggling all together, the chains of energy sunk into it, and Hermione could feel a bond of command between herself and the demon. It brought with it a rush of glorious Felmagic as well as a sense of satisfaction that only seemed to grow greater as the imp proceeded to walk out of the circle and bow before her.

"Well done, my apprentice." The shade of Sadrin said, a congratulation that NightSong echoed in her mind. As Hermione reveled in the power she had gained, the feel of it coursing through her, a small part of her couldn't help but note that she had brought a being of evil into the world and subjugated it to her will.

An even smaller part of her was horrified to find that she was proud of herself for it.

* * *

_Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office_

Sitting behind a desk that was mostly empty save for a solitary bowl of lemon drops, Albus Dumbledore pondered on his plans. Everything was falling into place quite nicely from where he was sitting. Tom Riddle was quite an effective distraction for the populace, wreaking havoc everywhere he went and spouting off his pureblood supremacist nonsense to attract idiot followers like the Malfoys and the Lestranges to his banner. Yes, he was quite effective for making sure nobody even thought to view Albus in a negative light or indeed as anything less than a paragon of virtues. He had grown a bit worried when the foolish ministry had run its smear campaign against him and the Potter child, refusing to acknowledge the return of Tom, but it had all turned out for the best as when he was revealed to be right he got his accolades with interest.

Ahhh, the Potter boy, now that had been a stroke of luck. Albus had joined the Scarlet Guard as a young man, believing that it was just another way to access forgotten magics of old and political alliances. How surprised then was he when, quite by accident, he discovered that the dwindling Cryus family were the heirs of the lost Menethil line, one of the only three families to escape the great spell that had cast out the Forsaken from the rest of the world. When he had taken his findings to the rest of the Scarlet Guard at one of their meetings, the original plan was to wipe out the family, find their assets, and destroy them, thus hopefully keeping the Forsaken cast out for good. Albus, however, had presented a different plan.

Seeing an opportunity to harness the power of such an ancient line to his will, he proposed that they wipe out the entire family except the youngest, a Lilith Cryus. They could then bind the girl's bloodline and place her in a controllable environment, and use her power for their own gain, as she grew older. Thus, the attack on the Cryus family occurred, killing the entire family except for the infant Lilith. After her Forsaken magic was bound, she was placed in a muggle family, the Evans family, with memories changed to make them think the girl was theirs. From that point on she was known as Lily Evans, and was closely watched by Dumbledore on the Guard's orders.

Everything had gone according to Dumbledore's plan. The girl grew up ignorant of her power, and soon he had her complete trust. As he observed her school years, he made sure to nudge her subtly towards those families he had close ties with, in the hopes of better controlling her. He was very pleased when she married the Potter heir, for the family was firmly light and thus firmly trusted Albus Dumbledore, and was even more pleased when he heard the prophecy saying that either their child or the child of another couple, the Longbottoms, would be the one to defeat Tom Riddle. Carefully engineering events, he allowed the death eater Snape who had heard part of the prophecy to escape and bring it to his master. This led to Tom attacking and killing the Potters before being banished by young Harry their son.

Seeing his chance, he quickly sent Hagrid, who served him without question, to obtain the child and bring him to his "relatives" Having already made sure that his "aunt" and her husband hated magic with a passion, he proceeded to place the boy on their doorstep with nothing but a letter and a bullshit explanation about blood wards. This was made all the easier by Sirius Black, the boy's godfather, going off and getting himself framed for murder and aiding and abetting murder.

When Dumbledore next saw the boy, he was ripe for the manipulating. Oh yes, his plans went perfectly. With the public focused on the epic struggle between the struggling but unequivocally light "Boy-Who-Lived" and the "Dark Lord Voldemort", nobody noticed Dumbledore slowly moving his people into positions of power, using his Guard contacts as well as his own group of unwitting pawns the Order of the Phoenix, of which only a few new of his true aims. As long as nothing derailed his plans, Dumbledore could see himself in control of the Wizarding World within the decade.

Yes, absolutely nothing could stop his plans now.

* * *

_Number Four Privet Drive_

As Nymphadora (though if you called her that you would die) Tonks walked up the pathway to the front door of the Dursley residence, she couldn't help but feel a bit of worry. She had been sent because the order hadn't received a letter from Harry in over a week, which led them to believe that something must have happened. Beyond that, she had come to consider the boy kin, owing to his closeness to her favorite cousin and to the fact that Sirius had made him Lord Black in his will, and thus the head of her family even if she had never been an official part of said family.

She reached the door and knocked, then stood for a few moments as she listened to a loud male voice yell for someone to get the door. This led to much stomping before finally the door opened, revealing the whale-like form of Harry's cousin Dudley.

"Who are _you_?" he asked snobbishly, drawing up his chins and causing them to wiggle with the effort. Tonks resisted the urge to make a sarcastic comment or laugh.

"I'm here to see Harry. How is he?" she asked politely.

Those words caused the fat boy to look at Tonks closer for a few moments, before he blanched and yelled out "DAD! There's a freak at the door!"

While Tonks bristled at being called a freak, the boy was gone too quickly for her to give an angry retort, his fat frame disappearing with remarkable speed born of fear. This was followed by even louder stomping that ended with a huge fat man standing in the doorway, his black eyes glaring and multiple chins jiggling.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here you freak! We want nothing to do with your lot!"

"I'll have you know, Mr. Dursley, that I am here to see how Harry is doing. We haven't heard from in a week and so help me if he has been injured in any way I will curse you, with a little extra thrown on for the swearing!"

At Tonk's angry words Vernon blanched even whiter than his son had before him, his fear overwhelming his hatred. "We, We haven't seen the boy in a week! He just came here one day and said he was moving out! We don't like the fre- I mean _boy_ and didn't protest to having him out of our lives!" he said, correcting his insult to Harry mid syllable when he noticed Tonks fingering her wand.

"What do you mean, "moved out"? Are you trying to tell me that he just up and left?"

"Yes that's what im trying to tell you. He's not here!"

Tonks stood there for a few moments, considering what she had just been told. From the sound of it, Harry had finally done what she had thought he would for years; he had found his own place away from these hateful… people seemed like to great a stretch for these scum. Personally she didn't have a problem with this, was even happy for him. But she was sure the order and more specifically Dumbledore would be unhappy.

"Well then, good night. May we never meet again, Vernon Dursley."

As Tonks walked away from the house, listening to the door slam behind her, she considered her options. On the one hand, Harry was now out on his own, which was sure to send the Order and Dumbledore into a tizzy if they found out. On the other hand, he was away from his sad excuse for relatives, something Tonks had wanted since she saw his room a year ago. 'Well, what the order doesn't know can't hurt them, and im sure Harry is taking care of himself. Yeah, nobody needs to know of this.'

And so Tonks apparated away from the neighborhood, preparing to give her report of how Harry had decided not to write letters but was fine and didn't want to be disturbed for the duration of the summer.

* * *

_Unknown Location_

As Voldemort looked down upon what was left of his loyal death eaters he had to stifle a sigh and an angry snarl. The Potter boy was responsible for having all of his most capable followers in Azkaban, where they were unable to serve him. On top of that, he was unable to access the link that he had used to torture and lure out the boy in the past, ever since he had felt that spike of pain in his head. It was maddening. But in the end, it was all a minor setback.

"My loyal death eaters," he began, "With the recent incarceration of our brethren, the world knows of our glorious return. Thus, it is time to strike terror into the hearts of wizards and witches once more!" He paused for a few moments as his minions let loose a great cheer, anxious to cause chaos in the open again. When the cheers died down he continued.

"To start with, there will be minor raids conducted to give experience to the newer recruits and thin the numbers of our foes, while eliminating vile mudbloods and muggles!" there was more cheering. "This will all lead up to one thing! Come summers end, we will attack Azkaban itself!"

This last proclamation was met with stunned silence, with the exception of the more fanatical group led by Bellatrix, who cheered alone. Suddenly, a voice sounded in the crowd. "But why are we going to attack that hellhole!? Won't we be in danger from the dementors?"

Voldemort stood up in fury at being questioned, and the crowd of death eaters parted in fear, revealing the lone death eater, a new recruit, who had questioned him.

"How dare you question me!? I am the Dark Lord, your master! If I instructed you to jump to certain death, you would be expected to follow the order or die painfully! _Crucio!_" He held the curse on the doubter for a few minutes, his other minions watching him either fearfully or with expressions of glee at the torture. When he stopped, he pointed his wand at the writhing figure of his detractor and intoned _Avada Kedavra_, killing him in a flash of green light.

"Are there any others who would question me?" The dark lord asked in a deadly calm voice. At the death eaters' silence, he continued. "Good. I am always happy to know that my loyal death eaters are not fools. Now, as I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted, we shall be attacking Azkaban at summer's end. The dementors have already made clear their allegiance to our noble cause, and with their aid we shall free our imprisoned brethren, and show the Wizarding world the true might of LORD VOLDEMORT!"

'And when we take Azkaban, I shall have a new artifact to ensure my dominion over the Wizarding world. All shall bow before me.'

The death eaters' cheers echoed into the black night, a chorus of terror for an unsuspecting world.

* * *

**A/N:** sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the past two. I might have made it longer, but this really seemed to me to be an appropriate place to stop. I really hope that you are all enjoying the developments that are happening with our two "heroes", as well as the glimpses into the plans of Dumbles and Voldemort. Regardless of all of that, as always ill say:

Like it? Hate it? Either way, please review it!

Korrag


	7. Developments and Planning

**A/N: **Well, I was very disappointed with the amount of response I got for the last chapter. I only got 12 reviews, which is the 2nd least I've gotten for a chapter, kind of sad if you ask me. Anyway, Things are going to start speeding up just a bit at this point, with another time jump to Harry's Birthday. It's my intention to have them on their way back to Hogwarts within the next three chapters. Also, I'd like to mention that while this is a HP fic, sometimes I will have more of Hermione's POV, because the way I see it, their both the main characters of this fic. Anyway, on to the chapter. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or Warcraft, I do have a lv 70 (woot!) Undead Warlock on Medivh though.

"talking"

'thinking'

_**SS**_Parceltongue_**SS**_

'_mindspeak'

* * *

_

Chapter 7: Developments and Planning

Over a month had past since Harry and Hermione had found out about their inheritances, and in that time they had both undergone many changes. Harry was clothed in blazing red robes covered with various arcane runes of power that glowed with a soft light. He held himself with a much more confidant air, and the air around him felt hot and charged with energy, a by-product of his growing skill as a fire mage. His eyes, though still the same vivid green that had caught the attention of so many, now held power, like a light glow just behind his eyes, not unlike Dumbledore's famous eye twinkle. And resting against the chair in which he sat in the library was the sheathed form of his inherited runeblade, FrostMourne.

Across from him Hermione reclined slightly in her own chair. While Harry had obviously changed, Hermione's changes could be seen as being much more drastic. She wore black robes inscribed with demonic runes glowing a dark purple. Her posture didn't just go to the confidant as Harry's did, it went to the arrogant. While both Harry and Hermione had learned some dark battle-magic, Hermione had taken to it like a fish to water, owing mostly to her choice to learn Felmagic. As such, the air of her was charged with dark energy, somewhat suffocating to those who revered the light above all else. Her eyes, once a light, carefree brown now held a calculating edge and glowed with a faint purple light. Next to her chair leaned her black bow NightSong.

As time had gone on, their power seemed to increase daily, but as they had noticed, their restraint had lessened as time went on too. In the beginning, they had both had reservations about the whole idea, each of them vowing not to learn anything past a certain point of darkness. However, the more power they gained, the more they found themselves curious about what lay deeper in the dark arts as well as the more forbidden Arcane and Fel magics. They had begun to find many fascinating spells, many with obvious reasons for being forbidden. Just a week before, Harry had been searching through the library for books on the level twenty training enemy, a being of elemental fire, when he came across a book detailing everything there was to know about elementals of all kinds, including how to summon them. This had given Harry a new goal, as it required a true master of Arcane magic to summon and bind an elemental.

Hermione on the other hand, had found many interesting spells involving blood. Not blood magic in the ritual sense, but actual spells, both Felmagic and Dark magic, that manipulated the blood in the caster or a target's body. She was actually studying a spell that would allow her to control the flow of blood in a person's body, allowing her to stop the flow of blood at a whim, at that very moment.

"Hermione, you alive in there?"

Harry restrained a chuckle as he watched her head whip up in surprise, though apparently his amusement was still visible on his face as her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

"Yes Harry?" She said, keeping her voice neutral.

"I wanted to know what you thought of all of this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you think of what's happened this past month. A month ago we were ignorant of our heritage, totally light in our ways, still under the headmaster's thumb, and well, weak. Now were stronger and more aware, and you must realize that were both changing more and more the longer this goes on. I for one am glad for the change, but I want to know what you think."

Hermione was surprised, and had to remind herself again that Harry was not Ron, that is to say he was not a stupid foolish arrogant prat who couldn't form an intelligent sentence involving anything other than quidditch to save his life. She considered his question for a few moments, looking at herself, the robes she wore, her hands, which still had the faint glow of the Felmagic she had cast earlier that day, and NightSong resting against her chair. Then she looked back at Harry.

"I like what's happening to me too. Every time I thought of the Department of Mysteries I couldn't help but think of how weak I was, how ineffective. Now I only need to be awake to feel the strength I've gained, the magic I've learned. So what if im having a personality change? I for one prefer myself this way. But your question does give me one; what next?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean "what next?""

"Well, think about it. Anyone with eyes will be able to tell that we've changed since we left Hogwarts if we go back there, and its almost certain that Dumbledore will see what were both becoming. My seventeenth birthday is this September and I'll go through the inheritance, so that pretty much makes it certain. So, my question is, what do we do you think we should do next?"

Harry had to think about that one. Hermione had a point, there were some serious issues with going back to Hogwarts this year, but there were also serious issues with _not_ going back. Over the past month, Harry had come to a realization. Not only would he have to fight Voldemort, but it was likely he would have to fight Dumbledore and his order as well. If Harry and Hermione didn't return to Hogwarts, it would tip off Dumbledore that something was wrong, he would begin investigating, and any element of surprise Harry and Hermione might have had would be lost. Placing his hand on FrostMourne, Harry asked _'Is there any way you can think of to hide the changes we've gone through so we can go back to Hogwarts this year?'_

A few seconds passed before the sword's reply came _'There is a way for you to do so, though it would leave you both weakened. It's a suppression spell, dark in nature, which makes any change the person wants hidden stay hidden. The only downside is that the power that maintains the spell is siphoned from the reserves of the magic you want to keep hidden. Basically, you would have your power in Azerothian magic halved. Do you plan on returning to that place?'_

'_As a matter of fact…'_

"Harry, I know whatever you and FrostMourne are talking about must be absolutely riveting, but could you _please_ answer my question?" Hermione broke in, just a bit annoyed at Harry's lack of response.

Bringing his focus back to Hermione, Harry said, "I was just about to get back to you. FrostMourne has a bit of a tendency to be either terse or painfully longwinded. As to your question, I think that if we can, we should return to Hogwarts."

"Why? I mean, the stuff we're learning here is actually _useful_ unlike most of the stuff we learned there, and if we go there we run the risk of being discovered. Besides that, I don't think getting newts will really help us in the long run, considering where our lives seem to be going."

Harry, while a bit surprised that Hermione had changed enough that she had stopped caring about getting Newts from Hogwarts, replied, "Well, think about it. If we don't go, then Dumbledore will have a reason to investigate us and where we've been this summer, thus upping the chances of him finding something amiss. If we return to Hogwarts however, we keep him from becoming suspicious and can keep an eye on him ourselves. In addition, there _are _a few things to learn there. Potions skills are something we haven't been learning here, and while we've learned plenty of battle-magic there is still plenty of transfiguration and charms skills we could pick up."

Harry watched silently as Hermione mulled that over in her mind and placed her hand on NightSong to get the bow's opinion, and noticed a devious gleam light up her eyes.

"Harry, did FrostMourne explain the history of the Forsaken to you?" she asked.

"Yeah, from the Lich King's creation onwards."

"Do you remember the Cult of the Damned?"

"Yeah, but how does that conne-… Oooo, I see. You think that we should recruit followers from the school while were there." Harry said catching on.

"Exactly. Im sure we could find hundreds of ways to entice the students to our way of thinking. A word here, a bribe there, and a promise of a better life, and you have loyal followers. To top it all off, im sure there are several rituals we could find to give our followers the option to embrace a greater destiny as Forsaken." Hermione explained.

Harry liked the idea. He liked the idea a lot. Everyone with a brain knew that Dumbledore's power stemmed greatly from his influence over the younger generation through Hogwarts. Every generation of students that graduated from Hogwarts thinking of him as a surrogate grandfather perpetuated his power. By taking away a part of that group, they could lesson the old man's power while increasing the backing for their own cause. And, though Hermione's way of putting it sounded a bit over the top to him, there were several powerful witches and wizards who could be powerful allies if they became Forsaken.

"Its settled then. We will return to Hogwarts this year, and while there we will gather allies for our cause. Dumbledore will never know what hit him."

Hermione nodded with a small smile on her face before adopting a pensive look. "Harry, I can only think of one issue. How are we going to get FrostMourne and NightSong in Hogwarts and where will we practice our Azerothian magics while were there? After all, Hogwarts was built by the people who banished the Forsaken in the first place, and im sure they have wards set up there to detect the magics we've been using."

Harry had to admit, that was a very real danger. They were by no means strong enough to take on an arch wizard like Dumbledore, so if they were discovered while in Hogwarts it would be very, very, bad. Either Dumbledore would kill them both or he would attempt to enslave them through magic. If there was one thing Harry was sure of in the world, it was that he refused to be Dumbledore's puppet anymore.

"If I may interrupt this riveting conversation about your fears, there really isn't a problem here. Me NightSong have been hiding our presences from others for millennia now, and the spells you can use to hide your heritage will also hide any magical auras you may have picked up. Also, im sure there's some secret chamber somewhere in that damn castle. You can use that to practice your magics.'

"Damn it of course! We can use the Chamber of Secrets to practice, and thinking about it, we could probably use it to teach some recruits some Azerothian magic." Harry exclaimed.

Hermione grinned at that, before adding her own thoughts. "That's a great idea! On top of its security and secrecy, there's a fifty foot long basilisk corpse that im sure could be put to all kinds of uses. That makes me think, I should probably do a bit of research into reanimating magic." At Harry's happy nod, she continued.

"Now that that's decided on, I have something I'd like to show you."

"Oh really?" Harry asked curiously

"Yes and im absolutely sure you'll enjoy it! Just follow me."

"Lead the way then."

After they had both grabbed their things, Harry followed Hermione as she led him through a variety of twists and turns, bringing him to a part of the complex that he was unfamiliar with. It had a variety of doors each marked with a different rune symbol. Finally, they reached a door with a mark Harry had seen several times on it, a rune that resembled a jewel. Underneath the rune was Hermione's name as well as the Windrunner and Faranel Crests.

"It's in here, come on!" Hermione exclaimed as she traced the rune symbol's outline before touching each of her family crests, causing the door to open. The room she pulled Harry into looked like a workshop of some sort. Various tools lined the walls and several worktables lined the walls. Most interesting were the various gems, both cut and uncut, as well as a variety of other materials occupying shelves all along the walls.

As Harry was taking in the room, Hermione had moved over to one of the worktables. Muttering something that was unintelligible to Harry from where he stood, she picked something up, making sure to keep it out of Harry's view, before turning around and walking back to Harry with a pleased smile on her face.

"I didn't know what I was going to get you, as I couldn't really think of any books that we couldn't already find in the library, so I was a bit worried, but then I stumbled across these places, and learned how to make things like this." She said in a rush, before opening her hands and revealing a Phoenix pendent made of one of the black metals on the wall and with two sapphires for eyes and an emerald in its center. "Happy Birthday Harry!"

Harry was surprised; both at the gift and the fact that he hadn't realized it was even his birthday. Sure they had been busy lately, but he hadn't thought they were that busy. Reaching out, he took the phoenix pendent from Hermione and regarded it carefully. The moment he touched it he felt a surge of power that faded a moment later. He looked at Hermione in curiosity.

"It's a very fine work, and im sure I would wear it for luck anyway, but I know it just did something. What does this thing do?"

Hermione was all too pleased to explain. "Well the main pendent is made of Dark Iron, which is supposed to give the wearer resistance to fire, both magical and mundane. It should, considering how hard to work it was. The Sapphires will increase your vision, eliminating the need for glasses, and allowing you to see magic more acutely. The emerald is the most useful part in my opinion though. It adds a boost to both the power of your spells and their penetration, making them more likely to break through any defenses someone might have up. The best part is that if you wear it long enough the fire resistance and sight enhancement will become permanent!"

Harry was amazed. All of that power in a simple pendant, and one that his friend, no best friend, had made for him. Wasting no time, he fastened the pendent around his neck so that t hung down over his robes. It added a nice effect to his overall outfit he noticed. Slowly his glasses began to become blurry, but when Harry took them off he could see perfectly fine. Grinning at Hermione, he pulled her into a tight hug while whispering "thank you", not noticing Hermione's blush as he did so.

Yes, things were definitely looking up.

* * *

In a citadel far under the frozen earth, eight glowing eyes regarded the scene with satisfaction.

"Soooooooooooon." Came a rasping buzzing voice. "Soooooooooooon we will be free once more."

* * *

**A/N:** Apologies for the short chapter. I couldn't think of a better place to stop then this. As it is, I hope you liked the plot development in this chapter. It should give you some idea of some of what's going to happen next. Also, can anyone guess just who (or what) is watching Harry and Hermione in this chapter? Next chapter will be longer!

As always, Like it? Hate it? Either way, please review it!

Korrag


	8. Summer's End

**A/N:** Well, here I am again! It seems that most of you liked that last chapter, as I got many reviews for it! That made me very happy! Alas, I couldn't get this out quicker because of what is the bane of many FF writers… multiple plot bunnies! In this case, I had to get out at least the first chapter of another fic (My HP/Elfen Lied x-over; Harry Potter and the Diclonius) but now that I have, I am back to this! You should see definite progress in this chapter, maybe a little HHr action and definite proof that Harry is indeed more powerful than Hermione in combat at the least. Read and enjoy my friends, read and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or Warcraft, I do have a lv 70 (woot!) Undead Warlock on Medivh though.

"talking"

'thinking'

_**SS**_Parceltongue_**SS**_

'_mindspeak'

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Summer's End

_The Burrow, end of August_

Ginny Weasley was confused.

Now this wasn't truly a very uncommon occurrence. Many of the things she saw people do confused her to no end. So often she saw people take the irrational path in life, whether it was in their views on blood purity or on their views on light and darkness.

She didn't deceive herself or hold herself above others of course. She knew that she had been very irrational at one time, with her crush on Harry Potter and her views on magic. All of that changed after her encounter with the diary, and the piece of Tom Riddle that resided within it.

Now, she loathed Tom for what he had made her do, for trying to kill her, for _using_ her as he had. That didn't change the fact that his touch had changed her in some ways that she viewed as positive. During those times when she had been possessed, her mind and Tom's had been connected, sharing information on the most basic of levels. She didn't know what that fragment of Tom had learned from her, but Ginny had learned quite a bit from it. While the leakage was jumbled, and only sorted itself out over time, Ginny had very gradually found herself in possession of a plethora of dark knowledge, from spells to creatures.

At first she had been horrified by what she found herself remembering, but over time, as she got older and as more of the knowledge sorted itself out, her horror diminished, changing into curiosity.

Much of the knowledge she gained she knew was dark, but she couldn't help but see the good it could be used for. A dark paralysis spell that essentially destroyed the nerves of a person from the neck down was certainly a horrible weapon, yet it could also be used on life sentence prisoners to prevent them from escaping, perhaps even as an alternative to Azkaban. Several pain curses could be used to stimulate the nerves in someone's body to wake them from a coma without damaging them. On top of those, there were also many dark spells that were little more than more powerful versions of normal spells, right down to a darker version of the _cheering charm_ that had once been used to help counter depression. The reason why they were termed dark still eluded her.

To top off her change of views, in the middle of her last year she had made a startling discovery. Before then she had made a vow to herself that she wouldn't use the dark spells she had learned, the only real holdover she had retained from her previous views. However, with the revelation of Tom's return to life, she had reevaluated that, and mid-way through the year had cast her first dark spell, the dark cutting curse. She had been surprised at a number of things when she did it. The first was at the power of the spell, which but through the dummy she had had the room of requirement create with ease to leave a scratch in the wall behind it, where the normal cutting curse would have only left a slash on the dummy if that. The second thing that surprised her was the ease with which she cast the spell. She had been expecting a bit of a problem with it, but instead she had gotten it on her first try, something which she attributed to the knowledge she had acquired from Tom. The final thing that had caught her off guard was just how _good_ it felt to cast the spell. She had vague ideas that it would feel different than casting a normal spell, but she hadn't expected to feel such a great rush of pleasure not to mention power.

That had been it for her reservations. From that moment on she had begun to master as many of the dark spells as she could, whether they came from the memories that Tom had left her with or from books she found in the room of requirement. She had even found some small amount of parsel magic, which she found she could learn and use due to her having acquired parseltounge from her possession. Soon she found herself in a quandary though.

Her problem was two fold. The first part of it was that she could tell she was the only one in her house, both at Hogwarts and at home, that used dark magic. Her surety of this stemmed mostly from the fact that she had found herself able to sense the darkness that came from dark spells on herself and others who practiced them. She had at first been fearful of being found out when she realized that, but she soon realized that only someone who used the spells could tell when another used them. She had been slightly worried when she had felt the darkness of several slytherins and ravenclaws, as they undoubtedly noticed it on her, but that actually turned into a blessing, as many of them had stopped harassing her and were even a bit more genial when there weren't any gryffindors around, and none of them told anyone. Her other problem came to her at the end of the year. After the department of mysteries, a battle which she escaped relatively unscathed from due in part to her dark spells, she had realized that she had a large problem in that she wouldn't be able to use magic period over the summer. This wouldn't be a problem, only she had become accustomed to the rush of power from casting dark spells, and, as much as she really hated to admit it, she had become addicted to the feeling to a great extent. The only answer she had managed to come up with was to stop using dark spells from the day she realized it, so she could become accustomed to the lack and not appear strange during the summer. It hadn't been pleasant, but she had conquered the problem without being found out.

Now however she had a much different problem. She, along with the other Weasleys, had been instructed to not write any letters to Harry over the summer by Dumbledore, who said it would just make him feel worse. The problem was that the idea in and of itself was the fact that as far as she could tell Harry hadn't agreed to this, which would imply that he wanted to receive mail. It frustrated her a great deal because she was incapable of sending a letter to ask him herself, due to her parents checking all letters before they were sent. It all seemed just a bit off.

Sighing, she realized that as she had been thinking it had gotten dark and she was more than a little tired. Rolling off of her bed she started to make her way downstairs to the kitchen. She was just about to enter the kitchen when she heard the voice of her mother talking animatedly. She couldn't hear much but she did hear her name followed quickly by Harry's several times. Curious at what her other was talking about, she quietly crept over to the corner that turned into the room in which the fireplace resided and listened.

"-and everything is going alright on your end, right?" Ginny heard her mother say, though she had missed the first part of the sentence.

"Yes, yes Molly, everything is going quite splendidly. The boy has no idea what's being done to him." Came the reply. Ginny's eyes widened as she recognized the owner of that voice as Dumbledore.

"Then I just have to keep lacing her food with the potion, and then she'll be married to Potter and be a rich widow soon after, right?" Came Molly's voice again.

"Yes Molly, that's correct. Just keep young Ginny under the potion for long enough to have her married to Potter and then you'll have rich successful children like you always wanted." Ginny had to stifle a gasp when she heard that. 'Potions? Harry? They're setting me up with Harry so I can be a rich widow? Wait, widow? Are they planning on killing Harry?'

"And you'll set me up with Hermione too, right Headmaster?" Ginny received yet another shock when she heard Ron's voice.

"Of course my boy! Just keep on informing me of the activities of Mr. Potter and when all is said and done you will have your Hermione even if we have to perform a binding ceremony to have her agree!" That last from Dumbledore caused Ginny to let out a small gasp of surprise and disgust. She knew exactly what a binding ceremony would do if used on Hermione particularly without the permission of her or her parents. It was designed to force unwilling brides who had been betrothed by their parents to wed their betrothed by making them totally subservient. If it was performed against the will of the parents and the person in question, it was known to use any means necessary to subdue the targets will.

Ginny had heard enough. Being as stealthy as she could manage she made her way back up to her room, all thoughts of thirst long gone from her mind. A discreet and undetectable scanning charm cast on herself revealed trace amounts of a love potion keyed to Harry's magical signature. 'Probably were planning to slowly increase the dosage to make it look like I fell in love with him on my own… bastards.'

Ginny didn't know what she was going to do about this betrayal from her headmaster and her own flesh and blood. She knew the she couldn't go against them on her own, but who could she turn to. 'Harry and Hermione are the other ones they mentioned planning to screw with, so I guess I'll see what happens if I tell them. Hopefully they'll believe me.'

* * *

_The Vault_

Harry and Hermione stood across from each other, each of them standing on one side of a dueling ring in one of the largest training rooms in the entire vault. Neither of them moved, both of them standing still in battle stances with wands drawn.

"So, you sure you want to do this Hermione?" Harry asked from his place across from her. "I mean, you can still stop now, its no crime to admit you're not the better dueler."

"Oh and I suppose this "generous" offer has nothing to do with the fact that if I forfeit you get to choose what's for dinner?" She replied sarcastically."

"Oh come on, I was just saying."

"Well stop saying. The stakes we agreed on were that the winner gets to choose where we eat diner, right? We'll start as soon as this feather hits the ground." With those words, Hermione pointed her wand and wordlessly conjured a feather in the air in the middle of the ring. As Harry watched it float down to the ground slowly, he couldn't help but remember just how his day came to this.

_Flashback_

"-So that's how we can go about finding people to recruit." Harry finished his idea to Hermione, who was sitting across from him garbed in the Warlock robes that had become her favorite, and waited for a response. When he received none he grew slightly annoyed.

"Hermione, hey Hermione you listening?"

Hermione continued to ignore him, reading the book she had in her hands as she had been for the past four hours. So far everything Harry had tried to convince her to put the book down and take a break had failed. Finally at the end of his rope, Harry walked over and shut the book in her hands while plucking it from her grasp.

"What was that for?" Hermione asked with a scowl on her face. "I was just in the middle of reading about the most fascinating spell that could-"

"Im sure whatever it does is fascinating but you've been sitting there reading without acknowledging me for _four hours_." Harry replied exasperatedly. "I mean honestly Hermione, there's more to do than just read and train all the time. We have money; we should go enjoy ourselves a bit. Im sure if we got some muggle money and went into London we could find a nice Italian place. I've always wanted to try Italian."

"Are you asking me out Harry?" came Hermione's reply. She was no longer scowling at him but had the ghost of a smile instead.

Harry was almost speechless when she asked him that. It wasn't that he hadn't considered doing such a thing, as he had been thinking of asking Hermione out since his birthday a month ago. But he hadn't brought himself to do it. Seeing Hermione's waiting expression, he quickly nodded. "Yes, I suppose I am."

Hermione fully smiled when she heard that. "Excellent," she said, getting up from where she sat and walking over to Harry. "I'm sure you agree then, that it would be best if we went to a French restaurant instead."

If Harry had been smart, he would've nodded his head to Hermione's subtle demand that they get French. But Harry wasn't really thinking, nor had he really heard anything past the word "excellent". This led to him responding, "No, I think we should get Italian."

Hermione's face showed surprise, as she hadn't really expected him to say no to French. It wasn't that she didn't like Italian she just really wanted French. Knowing that boys could be very stubborn but wanting to have Harry take her out, she quickly devised a plan.

"Harry, I really want French, so how about we make a bet. We'll have a quick duel and the winner gets to pick where we go to dinner _all right_?"

When Harry had heard her say she wanted French he had been perfectly prepared to say all right and ask where she wanted to go, but the emphasis she put on "all right" made it wound non-negotiable. Not finding the idea unreasonable, he said, "Ok Hermione, we'll have this little duel. Let's go."

_End Flashback_

Harry was brought out of his reverie as the feather hit the floor. Both he and Hermione burst into casting, Harry firing a burst of fire energy that streaked at Hermione. She countered by drawing enough Felmagic to herself to form demon armor, which dissipated all but a little of the energy leaving her singed, before clutching an amulet that hung from around her neck and yelling out "I summon you from the Twisting Nether, come; Jakmat!" Causing the demonic imp known by that name to appear in a flash of dark energy before Hermione.

"Jakmat, attack!" Hermione yelled out while pointing at Harry.

"Yes Mistress." The imp said before charging and releasing a fireball, cackling madly as it did so.

Harry had not been idle as Hermione was summoning however, and as Jakmat released the firebolt Harry finished charging his spell and released it, sending a molten boulder hurtling toward Hermione and her pet. The pyroblast collided with the imps firebolt before absorbing it and continuing on it path. It reached Hermione and the imp and exploded loudly and obscuring Harry's view. Harry was waiting for the smoke from the explosion from the blast to clear and thus was surprised when three shadowbolts streaked through the smoke towards him.

Cursing Harry raised his wand and yelled out "_Protego Umbrum!" _which caused a translucent purple shield to spring from his wand while he began to sprint to the right along the edge of the circle. As most Azerothian magic was made to do the shadowbolts followed Harry despite his dodge before splashing against his shield. A moderate amount of the shadow energy leaked through, draining Harry a small bit, but not enough to be of consequence for the duel.

With the smoke having cleared Harry could once again see Hermione, who had used her imp to block the pyroblast leaving her unscathed. Hermione however, was looking at where Harry had been standing before, leaving her side vulnerable. Quickly drawing standard Arcane energy to his hands he unleashed four barrages of arcane missiles at Hermione.

Normally Hermione would have been able to muster some kind of defense to the attack but she was caught off guard. First one, then another, then the last two arcane missile barrages hit her in the side, sending her flying out of the dueling ring to the ground and ending the match.

Having won the duel Harry jogged over to where Hermione had landed and was laying on the ground groaning a bit. As he ran he felt what energy he had expended return, one of the godsend benefits of the dueling circles. Hermione would only have the sting of a loss to deal with instead of holes in her side. As Harry reached her she propped herself onto her elbow to face him.

"You came at me from the side, didn't you?" She asked him a bit annoyed.

"Yes, I did." Harry replied. "You have to remember that neither your nor your opponents feet are glued to the ground during a fight or a duel. Too many wizards forget that and it makes them vulnerable to those who don't waste energy on a shield when they can dodge." Harry offered his hand to Hermione to help her up.

"Yeah, I'd best remember that so I don't get beaten by you again." Hermione said with a bit levity before taking the offered hand.

Harry pulled Hermione up but didn't factor in the increase in strength he had had ever since he had started eating right and training. This led to him pulling Hermione up too hard, which almost caused him to fall over backwards as she run into his chest. Having no other way to avoid falling down he wrapped his arms around her to regain his balance.

For the first few seconds Harry was afraid that Hermione would be annoyed at him, so he was surprised when Hermione reciprocated the gesture, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. They stood there for a few moments before Hermione looked up at Harry, who was a few inches taller than her.

"I guess were getting Italian then?" She asked him as she looked up at him.

Harry could of stared into her chocolate brown eyes with their life and power for hours but instead he answered. "French actually. My treat."

"Really?" Hermione asked, leaning in closer to his face. "But I thought you wanted Italian?"

"I want to make you happy more." He said, before closing the rest of the distance between their lips and kissing her tentatively, a kiss that she returned. The kiss was one of the best things Harry had ever experienced. Harry had only had one kiss before, and Cho's wet kiss didn't even come close to the kiss he shared with Hermione.

The kiss lasted a minute, just a kiss, no more, before they broke apart. Smiling at each other, they walked out of the training room, Hermione telling Harry all about the French restaurant she knew as they went and Hermione nodding happily.

* * *

_Coast of Azkaban Island_

Lord Voldemort, Dark Lord and Heir of Slytherin, looked at his gathered minions. There were dark wizards in scores and werewolves and even vampires from the clans he had managed to sway to his cause, all-standing before him.

"My loyal death eaters and honored allies." He began, having cast the _sonorous _charm wandlessly and silently. "Tonight is the night when we will free our captive brethren, who currently are held by the weak ministry in the prison of Azkaban. Tonight is the night that we remind the wizarding world who the true masters of magic are. Tonight is the night we gain our citadel, as well as the aid of the dementors. Tonight is the night that our victory begins. Tonight is the beginning of our victory!

On this night, the world will know that the reign of Lord Voldemort has begun! None will stand in our way!"

The ranks of his minions swelled with cheers and battle cries, the bloodlust of the group having been roused. Voldemort stood still for a moment to bask in the energy before speaking one last time.

"Tonight is _our_ night! Attack! Attack Azkaban!"

As the dark army stormed forward, Lord Voldemort allowed himself a smile.

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**A/N:** well this was one of the harder chapters to write. It took me thinking of this as a Christmas present to you, my readers to get it done. Frankly im not sure if I did a good job or not, particularly with the interaction between Harry and Hermione. So please my friends and readers, as always; like it? Hate it? Either way, please review it! 

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Korrag


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